LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


PH.sENT.oBv  mr.  c)A^^hT?.monro 


BR  1700  .W629  1913 

Whyte,  Alexander,  1836-1921 

Thirteen  appreciations 


THIRTEEN 
APPRECIATIONS 


THIRTEEN 
APPRECIATIONS 


BY 

PRINCIPAL  ALEXANDER   WHYTE 

D.D.,    LL.D. 


\ 


FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 

NEW    YORK       CHICAGO       TORONTO 


TO  THE  STUDENTS  OF  DIVINITY 


CONTENTS 


SANTA    TERESA 

PA»E 
1 

JACOB    BEHMEN 

35 

BISHOP    ANDREWES     . 

73 

SAMUEL '  RUTHERFORD 

.       113 

THOINIAS  '^SHEPARD        .             .             . 

.      129 

WILLIAM  ""gUTHRIE      . 

.      137 

JAMES    ERASER 

.      147 

THOMAS    GOODWIN       . 

.      157 

SIR    THOMAS    BROWNE 

.      177 

WILLIAM  "^LAW    .... 

.      199 

BISHOP    BUTLER            .            .            .            . 

.      239 

CARDINAL  "nEWMAN  .             .             .             . 

.      283 

JOHN   WESLEY 

.      361 

SANTA    TERESA 

Luther  was  born  in  1483,  and  he  nailed  his  ninety-five 
theses  to  the  door  of  the  University  Church  of  Wittenberg 
on  the  31st  October  1517.  Lo^^ola  was  born  in  1491, 
and  Xavier  in  1506,  and  the  Society  of  Jesus  was  estab- 
hshed  in  1534.  Isabella  the  Catholic  was  born  in  1451, 
and  our  own  Protestant  Elizabeth  in  1533.  The  Spanish 
Inquisition  began  to  sit  in  1483,  the  Breviary  was  finally 
settled  in  1568,  and  the  Armada  was  destroyed  in  1588. 
Columbus  was  born  in  1446,  and  he  set  out  on  his  great 
enterprise  in  1492.  Cervantes  was  born  in  1547,  and  the 
First  Part  of  his  immortal  work  was  published  in  1605. 
And  it  is  to  be  read  in  Santa  Teresa's  Breviary  to  this 
day  that  '  Teresa  the  Sinner '  was  born  on  the  29th  day 
of  March  1515,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  She  died 
in  1582,  and  in  1622  she  was  publicly  canonised  at  Rome 
along  with  Loyola  and  Xavier  and  two  other  Spanish 
saints. 

Teresa  was  greatly  blessed  in  both  her  parents.  '  It 
helped  me  much  that  I  never  saw  my  father  or  my  mother 
respect  anything  in  any  one  but  goodness.'  Her  father 
was  a  great  reader  of  the  best  books,  and  he  took  great 
pains  that  his  children  should  form  the  same  happy  habit 
and  should  carefully  cultivate  the  same  excellent  taste. 
Her  mother,  while  a  Christian  gentlewoman  of  the  first 
social  standing,  did  not  share  her  husband's  love  of 
serious  literature.     She  passed  far  too  much  of  her  short 


12  SANTA  TERESA 

lifetime  among  the  romances  of  the  day,  till  her  daughter 
has  to  confess  that  she  took  no  little  harm  from  the  books 
that  did  her  mother  no  harm  but  pastime  to  read.  As 
for  other  things,  her  father's  house  was  a  perfect  model 
of  the  very  best  morals  and  the  very  best  manners. 
Alonso  de  Cepeda  was  a  well-born  and  a  well-bred  Spanish 
gentleman.  He  came  of  an  ancient  and  an  illustrious 
Castilian  stock  ;  and,  though  not  a  rich  man,  his  house- 
hold enjoyed  all  the  nobility  of  breeding  and  all  the 
culture  of  mind  and  all  the  refinement  of  taste  for  which 
Spain  was  so  famous  in  that  great  age.  All  her  days, 
and  in  all  her  ups  and  downs  in  life,  we  continually  trace 
back  to  Teresa's  noble  birth  and  noble  uiDbringing  no 
little  of  her  supreme  stateliness  of  deportment  and 
serenity  of  manner  and  chivalry  of  character.  Teresa 
was  a  perfect  Spanish  lady,  as  well  as  a  mother  in  Israel, 
and  no  one  who  ever  conversed  with  her  could  for  a 
moment  fail  to  observe  that  the  oldest  and  best  blood 
of  Spain  mantled  in  her  cheek  and  shone  in  her  eye.  A 
lion  encompassed  by  crosses  was  one  of  the  quarters  of 
her  father's  coat  of  arms.  And  Teresa  took  that  up  and 
added  out  of  it  a  new  glory  to  all  her  father's  hereditary 
honours.  For  his  daughter  was  all  her  days  a  lioness 
palisaded  round  with  crosses,  till  by  means  of  them  she 
was  transformed  into  a  lamb.  But,  all  the  time,  the 
lioness  was  still  lurking  there.  Teresa's  was  one  of  those 
sovereign  souls  that  are  born  from  time  to  time  as  if  to 
show  us  what  our  race  was  created  for  at  first,  and  for 
what  it  is  still  destined.  She  was  a  queen  among  women. 
She  was  in  intellect  the  complete  equal,  and  in  still  better 
things  than  intellect  far  the  superior,  of  Isabella  and 
Elizabeth  themselves.  As  she  says  in  an  outspoken 
autobiographic  passage,  hers  was  one  of  those  outstand- 
ing and  towering  souls  on  which  a  thousand  eyes  and 


SANTA  TERESA  13 

tongues  are  continually  set  without  any  one  understand- 
ing them  or  comprehending  them.  Her  coming  greatness 
of  soul  is  foreseen  by  some  of  her  biographers  in  the 
attempt  that  she  made  while  yet  a  child  to  escape  away 
into  the  country  of  the  Moors  in  search  of  an  early  martyr- 
dom, so  that  she  might  see  her  Saviour  all  the  sooner, 
and  stand  in  His  presence  all  the  purer.  '  A  woman,' 
says  Crashaw,  '  for  angelical  height  of  speculation  ;  for 
masculine  courage  of  performance,  more  than  a  woman  ; 
who,  while  yet  a  child,  outran  maturity,  and  durst  plot 
a  martyrdom.' 

Teresa's  mother  died  just  when  her  daughter  was  at 
that  dangerous  age  in  which  a  young  girl  needs  a  wise 
mother  most ;  '  the  age  when  virtue  should  begin  to 
grow,'  as  she  says  herself.  Teresa  was  an  extraordinarily 
handsome  and  attractive  young  lady,  and  the  knowledge 
of  that,  as  she  tells  us,  made  her  very  vain,  and  puffed 
up  her  heart  with  foolish  imaginations.  She  has  a  power- 
ful chapter  in  the  opening  of  her  Autobiography  on 
dangerous  companionships  in  the  days  of  youth.  '  Oh 
that  all  parents  would  take  warning  by  me,  and  would 
look  carefully  into  their  children's  early  friendships  !  ' 
She  suffered  terribly  from  bad  health  all  her  days,  and 
that  severe  chastisement  began  to  fall  on  her  while  she 
was  yet  a  beautiful  girl.  It  was  a  succession  of  serious 
illnesses,  taken  along  v.ith  her  father's  scrupulous  care 
over  her,  that  brought  Teresa  back  to  the  simple  piety 
of  her  early  childhood,  and  fixed  her  for  life  in  an  extra- 
ordinary devotion  to  God  and  to  all  the  things  of  God. 
When  such  a  change  of  heart  and  character  comes  to  a 
young  woman  among  ourselves  she  usually  seeks  out 
some  career  of  religion  and  charity  to  which  she  can 
devote  her  life.  She  is  found  labouring  among  the  poor 
and  the  sick  and  the  children  of  the  poor,  or  she  goes 


14  SANTA  TERESA 

abroad  to  foreign  mission  work.  In  Teresa's  land  and 
day  a  Religious  House  was  the  understood  and  universal 
refuge  for  any  young  woman  who  was  in  earnest  about 
her  duty  to  God  and  to  her  own  soul.  In  those  Houses 
such  young  women  secluded  themselves  from  all  society 
and  gave  themselves  up  to  the  care  of  the  poor  and  the 
young.  In  the  more  strict  and  enclosed  of  those  retreats 
the  inmates  never  came  out  of  doors  at  all,  but  wholly 
sequestered  themselves  up  to  a  secret  life  of  austerity 
and  prayer.  This  was  the  ideal  life  led  in  those  Houses 
for  religious  women.  But  Teresa  soon  found  out  the 
tremendous  mistake  she  had  made  in  leaving  her  father's 
family  -  fireside  for  a  so-called  Religious  House.  No 
sooner  had  she  entered  it  than  she  was  plunged  headlong 
into  those  very  same  '  pestilent  amusements,'  the  mere 
approach  of  which  had  made  her  flee  to  this  supposed 
asylum.  Though  she  is  composing  her  Autobiography 
under  the  sharp  eyes  of  her  confessors,  and  while  she  is 
writing  with  a  submissiveness,  and  indeed  a  servility 
that  is  her  only  weakness,  Teresa  at  the  same  time  is 
bold  enough  and  honest  enough  to  tell  us  her  own  experi- 
ences of  monastic  life  in  language  of  startling  strength 
and  outspokenness.  '  A  short-cut  to  hell.  If  parents 
would  take  my  advice,  they  would  rather  marry  their 
daughters  to  the  very  poorest  of  men,  or  else  keep  them 
at  home  under  their  own  eye.  If  young  women  will  be 
wicked  at  home,  their  wickedness  will  not  long  be  hidden, 
but  in  monasteries,  such  as  I  speak  of,  their  worst  wicked- 
ness can  be  completely  covered  up  from  every  human 
eye.  And  all  the  time  the  poor  things  are  not  to  blame. 
They  only  walk  in  the  way  that  is  shown  them.  Many 
of  them  are  to  be  much  pitied,  for  they  honestly  wish  to 
withdraw  from  the  world,  only  to  find  themselves  in  ten 
times  worse  worlds  of  sensuality  and  all  other  devilry. 


SANTA  TERESA  15 

0  my  God  !  if  I  might  I  would  fain  speak  of  some  of  the 
occasions  of  sin  from  wliich  Thou  didst  dehver  me,  and 
how  I  threw  myself  into  them  again.     And  of  the  risks 

1  ran  of  utterly  shipwrecking  my  character  and  good 
name  and  from  wliich  Thou  didst  rescue  me.  O  Lord 
of  my  soul  !  how  shall  I  be  able  to  magnify  Thy  grace  in 
those  perilous  years  !  At  the  very  time  that  I  was 
offending  Thee  most,  Thou  didst  prepare  me  by  a  most 
profound  compunction  to  taste  of  the  sweetness  of  Thy 
recoveries  and  consolations.  In  truth,  O  my  King,  Thou 
didst  administer  to  me  the  most  spiritual  and  painful 
of  chastisements  :  for  Thou  didst  chastise  my  sins  with 
great  assurances  of  Thy  love  and  of  Thy  great  mercy.  It 
makes  me  feel  beside  myself  when  I  call  to  mind  Thy 
great  grace  and  my  great  ingratitude.' 

This  leads  us  up  to  the  conception  and  the  commence- 
ment of  that  great  work  to  which  Teresa  dedicated  the 
whole  of  her  after  life, — the  reformation  and  extension 
of  the  Religious  Houses  of  Spain.  The  root-and-branch 
reformation  of  Luther  and  his  German  and  Swiss  col- 
leagues had  not  laid  much  hold  on  Spain  ;  and  the  little 
hold  it  had  laid  on  her  native  land  had  never  reached 
to  Teresa.  Teresa  performed  a  splendid  service  inside 
the  Church  to  which  she  belonged  ;  but  that  service  was 
wholly  confined  to  the  Religious  Houses  that  she  founded 
and  reformed.  Teresa's  was  intended  to  be  a  kind  of 
counter-reformation  to  the  reformation  of  Luther  and 
Melanchthon  and  Valdes  and  Valera.  And  such  was  the 
talent  and  the  faith  and  the  energy  she  brought  to  bear 
on  the  work  she  undertook,  that,  had  it  been  better 
directed,  it  might  have  been  blessed  to  preserve  her 
beloved  native  land  at  the  head  of  modern  Christendom. 
But,  while  that  was  not  to  be,  it  is  the  immense  talent, 
and  the  unceasing  toil,  and  the  sj^lendid  faith  and  self- 


16  SANTA  TERESA 

surrender  that  Teresa  brought  to  bear  on  her  intramural 
reformation — and,  all  through  that,  on  the  working  out 
of  her  own  salvation, — it  is  all  these  things  that  go  to 
make  Teresa's  long  life  so  memorable  and  so  impressive, 
not  only  in  her  own  age  and  land  and  church,  but  where- 
ever  greatness  of  mind,  and  nobleness  of  heart,  and 
sanctity  of  life,  and  stateliness  of  character  are  heard  of 
and  are  esteemed. 

Teresa's  intellect,  her  sheer  power  of  mind,  is  enough 
of  itself  to  make  her  an  intensely  interesting  study  to  all 
thinking  men.  No  one  can  open  her  books  without  con- 
fessing the  spell  of  her  powerful  understanding.  Her 
books,  before  they  were  books,  absolutely  captivated 
and  completely  converted  to  her  unpopular  cause  many 
of  her  most  determined  enemies.  Again  and  again  and 
again  we  find  her  confessors  and  her  censors  admitting 
that  both  her  spiritual  experiences  and  her  reformation 
work  were  utterly  distasteful  and  very  stumbling  to  them 
till  they  had  read  her  own  written  account,  first  of 
her  life  of  prayer  and  then  of  her  reformation  work. 
One  after  another  of  such  men,  and  some  of  them  the 
highest  in  learning  and  rank  and  godliness,  on  reading 
her  autobiographic  papers,  came  over  to  be  her  fear- 
less defenders  and  fast  friends.  There  is  nothing  more 
delightful  in  all  her  delightful  Autobiography,  and  in  the 
fine  '  censures  '  that  have  been  preserved  concerning  it, 
than  to  read  of  the  great  and  learned  theologians,  the 
responsible  church  leaders,  and  even  the  secret  inquisitors 
who  came  under  the  charm  of  her  character  and  the  spell 
of  her  pen.  '  She  electrifies  the  will,'  confessed  one  of 
the  best  judges  of  good  writing  in  her  day.  And  old 
Bishop  Palafox's  tribute  to  Teresa  is  far  too  beautiful  to 
be  withheld.  '  What  I  admire  in  her  is  the  peace,  the 
sweetness,  and  the  consolation  with  which  in  her  writings 


SANTA  TERESA  17 

she  draws  us  towards  the  best,  so  that  we  find  ourselves 
captured  rather  than  conquered,  imprisoned  rather  than 
prisoners.  No  one  reads  the  saint's  writings  who  does 
not  presently  seek  God,  and  no  one  through  her  writings 
seeks  God  who  does  not  remain  in  love  with  the  saint. 
I  have  not  met  with  a  single  spiritual  man  who  does  not 
become  a  passionate  admirer  of  Santa  Teresa.  But  her 
writings  do  not  alone  impart  a  rational,  interior,  and 
superior  love,  but  a  love  at  the  same  time  practical, 
natural,  and  sensitive  ;  and  my  own  experience  proves 
it  to  me  that  there  exists  no  one  who  loves  her  but  would, 
if  the  saint  were  still  in  this  world,  travel  far  to  see  and 
speak  with  her.'  I  wish  much  I  could  add  to  that  Peter 
of  Alcantara's  marvellous  analysis  of  Teresa's  experi- 
ences and  character.  Under  thirty-three  heads  that 
great  saint  sums  up  Teresa's  character,  and  gives  us  a 
noble,  because  all  unconscious,  revelation  of  his  own. 
And  though  Teresa  has  been  dead  for  three  hundred 
years,  she  speaks  to  this  day  in  that  same  way  :  and  that 
too  in  quarters  in  which  we  would  little  expect  to  hear 
her  voice.  In  that  intensely  interesting  novel  of  modern 
Parisian  life.  En  Route,  Teresa  takes  a  chief  part  in  the 
conversion  and  sanctification  of  the  prodigal  son  whose 
return  to  his  father's  house  is  so  powerfully  depicted 
in  that  story.  The  deeply  read  and  eloquent  author  of 
that  remarkable  book  gives  us  some  of  the  best  estimates 
and  descriptions  of  Santa  Teresa  that  I  have  anywhere 
met  with.  '  That  cool-headed  business  woman  ,  .  . 
that  admirable  psychologist  and  of  superhuman  lucidity 
.  .  .  that  magnificent  and  over-awing  saint  .  .  .  she 
has  verified  in  her  own  case  the  supernatural  experiences 
of  the  greatest  mystics, — such  are  her  unparalleled  experi- 
ences in  the  supernatural  domain.  .  .  .  Teresa  goes 
deeper  than  any  like  writer  into  the  unexplored  regions 

B 


18  SANTA  TERESA 

of  the  soul.  She  is  the  geographer  and  hydrographer 
of  the  sinful  soul.  She  has  drawn  the  map  of  its  poles, 
marked  its  latitudes  of  contemplation  and  prayer,  and 
laid  out  all  the  interior  seas  and  lands  of  the  human 
heart.  Other  saints  have  been  among  those  heights  and 
depths  and  deserts  before  her,  but  no  one  has  left  us  so 
methodical  and  so  scientific  a  survey.'  Were  it  for 
nothing  else,  the  chapters  on  mystical  literature  in  M. 
Huysmans's  trilogy  would  make  it  a  valued  possession 
to  every  student  of  the  soul  of  man  under  sin  and  under 
salvation. 

And  then,  absolutely  possessed  as  Teresa  always  is  by 
the  most  solemn  subjects, — herself,  her  sin,  her  Saviour, 
her  original  method  of  prayer  and  her  unshared  ex- 
periences in  prayer, — she  showers  upon  us  continually 
gleams  and  glances  of  the  sunniest  merriment  amid  all 
her  sighs  and  tears.  She  roasts  in  caustic  the  gross- 
minded,  and  the  self-satisfied,  and  the  self-righteous,  as 
Socrates  himself  never  roasted  them  better.  Again,  like 
his,  her  irony  and  her  raillery  and  her  satire  are  some- 
times so  delicate  that  it  quite  eludes  you  for  the  first  two 
or  three  readings  of  the  exquisite  page.  And  then,  when 
you  turn  the  leaf,  she  is  as  ostentatiously  stupid  and 
ignorant  and  dependent  on  your  superior  mind  as  ever 
Socrates  was  himself.  Till  I  shrewdly  suspect  that  no 
little  of  that  '  obedience  '  which  so  intoxicated  and  fasci- 
nated her  inquisitors,  and  which  to  this  day  so  exasperates 
some  of  her  biographers,  was  largely  economical  and 
ironical.  Her  narrow  cell  is  reported  to  have  often  re- 
sounded with  peals  of  laughter  to  the  scandal  of  some  of 
her  sisters.  In  support  of  all  that  I  have  marked  a  score 
of  Socratic  passages  in  Woodhead,  and  Dalton,  and 
Lewis,  and  Father  Coleridge,  and  Mrs.  Cunninghame 
Graham.     They   are   very  delicious   passages   and   very 


SANTA  TERESA  19 

tempting.  But  were  they  once  begun  there  would  be 
no  end  to  them.  You  will  believe  Froude,  for  he  is  an 
admitted  judge  in  all  matters  connected  with  the  best 
literature,  and  he  says  in  his  Quarterly  article  on  Teresa's 
writings,  '  The  best  satire  of  Cervantes  is  not  more 
dainty.' 

The  great  work  to  which  Teresa  gave  up  her  whole  life, 
after  her  full  conversion,  was  the  purification  of  the 
existing  monastic  system,  and  the  multiplication  and 
extension  of  Religious  Houses  of  the  strictest,  severest, 
most  secluded,  most  prayerful,  and  most  saintly  life. 
She  had  been  told  by  those  she  too  much  tiiisted,  that 
the  Church  of  Christ  was  being  torn  in  pieces  in  Germany, 
and  in  Switzerland,  and  in  France,  and  in  England  by  a 
great  outbreak  of  heretical  error  ;  and,  while  the  Society 
of  Jesus  and  the  Secret  Inquisition  were  established  to 
cope  with  all  such  heresy,  Teresa  set  herself  to  counter- 
act it  by  a  widespread  combination  of  unceasing  penance 
and  intercessory  prayer.  It  was  a  zeal  without  know- 
ledge ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  sincerity, 
the  single-mindedncss,  and  the  strength  of  the  zeal.  For 
forty  as  hard-working  j^ears  as  ever  any  woman  spent 
in  this  world,  Teresa  laboured  according  to  her  best  light 
to  preserve  the  purity  and  the  unity  of  the  Church  of 
Christ.  And  the  strength  and  the  sagacity  of  mind, 
the  tact,  the  business  talents,  the  tenacity  of  will,  the 
patience,  the  endurance,  the  perseverance,  the  sleepless 
watchfulness,  and  the  abounding  prayerfulness  that  she 
brought  to  bear  on  the  reformation  and  multiplication 
of  her  fortresses  of  defence  and  attack  in  that  holy  war, 
all  taken  together,  make  up  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
pages  in  the  whole  history  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  Her 
difficulties  with  Rome,  with  the  Inquisition,  with  her 
more  immediate  superiors,  confessors,  and  censors  :   and, 


20  SANTA  TERESA 

most  of  all,  with  the  ignorance,  the  stupidity,  the  laziness, 
the  malice,  and  the  lies  of  those  monks  and  nuns  whose 
reformation  she  was  determined  on  :  her  endless  journeys  : 
her  negotiations  with  church-leaders,  land-owners,  and 
tradesmen  in  selecting  and  securing  sites,  and  in  erect- 
ing new  Religious  Houses  :  the  adventures,  the  accidents, 
the  entertainments  she  met  with  :  and  the  fine  temper, 
the  good  humour,  the  fascinating  character,  the  winning 
manners  she  everywhere  exhibited  ;  and,  withal,  her  in- 
comparable faith  in  the  Living  God,  and  the  exquisite 
inwardness,  unconquerable  assurance,  and  abounding 
fruitfulness  of  her  own  and  unshared  method  and  secret 
of  prayer, — had  Teresa  not  lived  and  died  in  Spain,  and 
had  she  not  spent  her  life  and  done  her  work  under  the 
Roman  obedience,  her  name  would  have  been  a  house- 
hold word  in  Scotland.  As  it  is,  she  is  not  wholly  un- 
known or  unloved.  And  as  knowledge  extends,  and  love, 
and  good-will ;  and  as  suspicion,  and  fear,  and  retaliation, 
and  partjT'-spirit  die  out  among  us,  the  truth  about  Teresa 
and  multitudes  more  will  become  established  on  clearer 
and  deeper  and  broader  foundations  ;  and  we  shall  be 
able  to  hail  both  her  and  multitudes  more  like  her  as  our 
brothers  and  sisters  in  Christ,  whom  hitherto  we  have 
hated  and  despised  because  we  did  not  knoAV  them,  and 
had  been  poisoned  against  them.  I  am  a  conspicuous 
case  in  point  mj^sclf.  And  when  I  have  been  conquered 
by  a  little  desultory  reading  and  by  a  little  effort  after 
love  no  man  need  despair.  And  if  you  will  listen  to  this 
discourse  with  a  good  and  honest  heart :  Mdth  a  heart 
that  delights  to  hear  all  this  good  report  about  a  fellow- 
believer  :  then  He  who  has  begun  that  good  work  in  you 
will  perfect  it  by  books  and  by  discourses  like  this,  and 
far  better  than  this,  till  you  are  taken  absolutely  captive 
to  that  charity  which  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  re- 


SANTA  TERESA  21 

joiceth  in  the  truth :  and  which  beareth  all  things, 
believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all 
things.  Follow  after  charity,  and  begin  with  Santa 
Teresa. 

Forbid  it,  mighty  Love,  let  no  fond  hate 

Of  names  or  words  so  far  prejudicate  ; 

Souls  are  not  Spaniards  too  ;  one  friendly  flood 

Of  baptism  blends  them  all  into  one  blood. 

What  soul  soe'er  in  any  language  can 

Speak  heaven  like  hers,  is  my  soul's  countryman. 

But  the  greatest  and  the  best  talent  that  God  gives 
to  any  man  or  woman  in  this  world  is  the  talent  of  prayer. 
And  the  best  usury  that  any  man  or  woman  brings  back 
to  God  when  He  comes  to  reckon  with  them  at  the  end 
of  this  world  is  a  life  of  prayer.  And  those  servants  best 
put  their  Lord's  money  to  the  exchangers  who  rise  early 
and  sit  late,  as  long  as  they  are  in  this  world,  ever  finding 
out  and  ever  following  after  better  and  better  methods 
of  prayer,  and  ever  forming  more  secret,  more  steadfast, 
and  more  spiritually  fruitful  habits  of  prayer  :  till  they 
literally  pray  without  ceasing,  and  till  they  continually 
strike  out  into  new  enterprises  in  prayer,  and  new  achieve- 
ments, and  new  enrichments.  It  was  this  that  first  drew 
me  to  Teresa.  It  was  her  singular  originality  in  prayer 
and  her  complete  captivity  to  prayer.  It  was  the  time 
she  spent  in  prayer,  and  the  refuge,  and  the  peace,  and 
the  sanctification,  and  the  power  for  carrying  on  hard 
and  unrequited  work  that  she  all  her  life  found  in  prayer. 
It  was  her  fidelity  and  her  utter  surrender  of  herself  to 
this  first  and  last  of  all  her  religious  duties,  till  it  became 
more  a  delight,  and,  indeed,  more  an  indulgence,  than 
a  duty.  With  Teresa  it  was  prayer  first,  and  prayer 
last,  and  prayer  always.  With  Teresa  literally  all  things 
were  sanctified,   and  sweetened,   and  made  fruitful  by 


22  SANTA  TERESA 

prayer.  In  Teresa's  writings  prayer  holds  much  the 
same  place  that  it  holds  in  the  best  men  and  women  of 
Holy  Scripture.  If  I  were  to  say  that  about  some  of  the 
ladies  of  the  Scottish  Covenant,  you  would  easily  beheve 
me.  But  you  must  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  about 
a  Spanish  lady,  second  to  none  of  them  in  holiness  of  life, 
even  if  her  holy  life  is  not  all  cast  in  our  mould.  All  who 
have  read  the  autobiographic  Apologia  will  remember 
the  fine  passage  in  which  its  author  tells  us  that  ever 
since  his  conversion  there  have  been  two,  and  only  two, 
absolutely  self-luminous  beings  in  the  whole  universe  of 
being  to  him, — God  and  his  own  soul.  Now,  I  do  not 
remember  that  Newman  even  once  speaks  about  Teresa 
in  any  of  his  books,  but  I  always  think  of  him  and  her 
together  in  this  great  respect.  GOD  IS  to  them  both, 
and  to  them  both  He  is  a  rewarder  of  them  that  diligently 
seek  Him.  And  it  is  just  here,  at  the  very  commence- 
ment and  centre  of  divine  things,  that  we  all  make  such 
shipwreck  and  come  so  short.  The  sense  of  the  reality 
of  divine  and  unseen  things  in  Teresa's  life  of  prayer  is 
simply  miraculous  in  a  woman  still  living  among  things 
seen  and  temporal.  Her  faith  is  truly  the  substance  of 
things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen. 
Our  Lord  was  as  real,  as  present,  as  near,  as  visible,  and 
as  affable  to  this  extraordinary  saint  as  ever  He  was  to 
Martha,  or  Mary,  or  Mary  Magdalene,  or  the  woman  of 
Samaria,  or  the  mother  of  Zebedee's  children.  She  pre- 
pared Him  where  to  laj^  His  head  ;  she  sat  at  His  feet 
and  heard  His  word.  She  chose  the  better  part,  and  He 
acknowledged  to  herself  and  to  others  that  she  had  done 
so.  She  washed  His  feet  with  her  tears,  and  wiped  them 
with  the  hair  of  her  head.  She  had  been  forgiven  much, 
and  she  loved  much.  He  said  to  her,  Mary,  and  she 
answered  Him,   Rabboni.     And  He  gave  her  messages 


SANTA  TERESA  23 

to  deliver  to  His  disciples,  who  had  not  waited  for  Him 
as  she  had  waited.  Till  she  was  able  to  say  to  them  all 
that  she  had  seen  the  Lord,  and  that  He  had  spoken  such 
and  such  things  within  her.  And  hence  arises  what  I 
may  call  the  quite  extraordinary  purity  and  spirituality 
of  her  hfe  of  prayer.  '  Defecate  '  is  Goodwin's  favourite 
and  constant  word  for  the  purest,  the  most  rapt,  the 
most  adoring,  and  the  most  spiritual  prayer.  '  1  have 
known  men  ' — it  must  have  been  himself — '  who  came 
to  God  for  nothing  else  but  just  to  come  to  Him,  they  so 
loved  Him.  They  scorned  to  soil  Him  and  themselves 
with  any  other  errand  than  just  purely  to  be  alone  with 
Him  in  His  presence.  Friendship  is  best  kept  up,  even 
among  men,  by  frequent  visits  ;  and  the  more  free  and 
defecate  those  frequent  visits  are,  and  the  less  occasioned 
by  business,  or  necessity,  or  custom  they  are,  the  more 
friendly  and  welcome  they  are.'  Now,  I  had  sometimes 
wondered  what  took  Teresa  so  often,  and  kept  her  so 
long,  alone  with  God.  Till  I  remembered  Goodwin's 
classical  jDassages  about  defecate  prayer,  and  under- 
stood something  of  what  is  involved  and  what  is  to  be 
experienced  in  pure  and  immediate  communion  with 
God.  And,  then,  from  all  that  it  surely  follows,  that  no 
one  is  fit  for  one  moment  to  have  an  adverse  or  a  hostile 
mind,  or  to  pass  an  adverse  or  a  hostile  judgment,  on 
the  divine  manifestations  that  came  to  Teresa  in  her 
unparalleled  life  of  prayer  ;  no  one  who  is  not  a  man  of 
like  prayer  himself  ;  no,  nor  even  then.  I  know  all  the 
explanations  that  have  been  put  forward  for  Teresa's 
'  locutions  '  and  revelations  ;  but  after  anxiously  weigh- 
ing them  all,  the  simplest  explanation  is  also  the  most 
scientific,  as  it  is  the  most  scriptural.  If  our  ascending 
Lord  actually  said  what  He  is  reported  to  have  said 
about  the   way   that  He   and   His   Father  will   always 


24  SANTA  TERESA 

reward  all  love  to  Him,  and  the  keeping  of  all  His  com- 
mandments ;     then,    if    there    is    anything    true    about 
Teresa  at  all,  it  is  this,  that  from  the  day  of  her  full  con- 
version she  lived  with  all  her  might  that  very  life  which 
has  all  these  transcendent  promises  spoken  and  sealed 
to  it.     By  her  life  of  faith  and  prayer  and  personal  holi- 
ness,   Teresa   made   herself    '  capable   of   God,'    as   one 
describes  it,  and  God  came  to  her  and  filled  her  with 
Himself  to  her  utmost  capacity,  as  He  said  He  would. 
At  the  same  time,  much  as  I  trust  and  honour  and  love 
Teresa,  and  much  good  as  she  has  been  made  of  God  to 
me,  she  was  still,  at  her  best,  but  an  imperfectly  sanctified 
woman,  and  her  rewards  and  experiences  were  corre- 
spondingly imperfect.     But  if  a  holy  life  before  such 
manifestations  were  made  to  her,  and  a  still  holier  life 
after  them — if  that  is  any  test  of  the  truth  and  reality 
of  such  transcendent  and  supernatural  matters, — on  her 
own  humble  and  adoring  testimony,   and  on   the  now 
extorted  and  now  spontaneous  testimony  of  absolutely 
all  who  lived  near  her,  still  more  humility,  meekness, 
lowly-mindedness,    heavenly-mindedness   and   prayerful- 
ness  demonstrably  followed  those  inward  and  spiritual 
revelations  to  her  of  her  Lord.     In  short  and  in  sure  ye 
shall  know  them  by  their  fruits.     Do  men  gather  grapes 
of  thorns,   or  figs  of  thistles  ?     On  the  whole,   then,   I 
for  one  am  strongly  disposed  towards  Teresa,  even  in 
the  much-inculpated  matter  of  her  inward  voices  and 
visions.     The  wish  may  very  possibly  be  father  to  the 
thought :    but  my  thought  leans  to  Teresa,  even  in  her 
most  astounding  locutions  and  revelations  ;    they  answer 
so  entirely  to  my  reading  of  our  Lord  and  of  His  words. 
I  take  sides,  on  the  whole,  with  those  theologians  of  her 
day,  who  began  by  doubting,  but  ended  by  believing  in 
Teresa  and  by  imitating  her.     They  were  led  to  rejoice 


SANTA  TERESA  25 

that  any  contemporary  and  fellow-sinner  had  attained 
to  such  fellowship  with  God  :  and  I  am  constrained  to 
take  sides  with  them.  '  One  day,  in  prayer,  the  sweet- 
ness was  so  great  that  I  could  not  but  contrast  it  with 
the  place  I  deserved  in  hell.  The  sweetness  and  the 
light  and  the  peace  were  so  great  that,  compared  with 
it,  everything  in  this  world  is  vanity  and  lies.  I  was 
filled  with  a  new  reverence  for  God.  I  saw  His  majesty 
and  His  power  in  a  way  I  cannot  describe,  and  the  vision 
kept  me  in  great  tenderness  and  joy  and  humility.  I 
cannot  help  making  much  of  that  which  led  me  so  near 
to  God.  I  knew  at  that  great  moment  what  it  is  for  a 
soul  to  be  in  the  very  presence  of  God  Himself.  What 
must  be  the  condescension  of  His  Majesty  seeing  that 
in  so  short  a  time  He  left  so  great  an  impression  and  so 
great  a  blessing  on  my  soul  !  O  my  Lord,  consider  who 
she  is  upon  whom  Thou  art  bestowing  such  unheard-of 
blessings  !  Dost  Thou  forget  that  my  soul  has  been  an 
abyss  of  sin  ?  How  is  this,  O  Lord,  how  can  it  be  that 
such  great  grace  has  come  to  the  lot  of  one  who  has  so 
ill  deserved  such  things  at  Thy  hands  !  '  He  who  can 
read  that,  and  a  hundred  passages  as  good  as  that,  and 
who  shall  straightway  set  himself  to  sneer  and  scoff  and 
disparage  and  find  fault,  he  is  well  on  the  way  to  the  sin 
against  the  Holy  Ghost.  At  any  rate,  I  would  be  if  I 
did  not  revere  and  love  and  imitate  such  a  saint  of  God. 
Given  God  and  His  Son  and  His  Holy  Spirit :  given  sin 
and  salvation  and  prayer  and  a  holy  life  ;  and,  with 
many  drawbacks,  Teresa's  was  just  the  life  of  self-denial 
and  repentance  and  prayer  and  communion  with  God 
that  we  should  all  live.  It  is  not  Teresa  who  is  to  be 
bemoaned  and  blamed  and  called  bad  names.  It  is  we 
who  do  all  that  to  her  who  are  beside  ourselves.  It  is  wc 
who  need  the  beam  to  be  taken  out  of  our  own  eye. 


26  SANTA  TERESA 

Teresa  was  a  mystery  and  an  offence  ;  and,  again,  an 
encouragement  and  an  example  to  the  theologians  and 
the  inquisitors  of  her  day  just  as  she  still  is  in  our  day. 
She  Avas  a  stumbling-stone,  or  an  ensample,  according 
to  the  temper  and  disposition  and  character  of  her  con- 
temporaries, and  she  is  the  same  to-day. 

Teresa's  Autobiography,  properly  speaking,  is  not  an 
autobiography  at  all,  though  it  ranks  with  The  Confes- 
sions, and  The  Commedia,  and  The  Grace  Abounding,  and 
The  Religuice,  as  one  of  the  very  best  of  that  great  kind 
of  book.  It  is  not  really  Teresa's  Life  Written  by  Herself, 
though  all  that  stands  on  its  title-page.  It  is  only  one 
part  of  her  life  :  it  is  only  her  life  of  prayer.  The  title 
of  the  book,  she  says  in  one  place,  is  not  her  life  at  all, 
but  The  Mercies  of  God.  Many  other  matters  come  up 
incidentally  in  this  delightful  book,  but  the  whole  drift 
and  the  real  burden  of  the  book  is  its  author's  life  of 
prayer.  Her  attainments  and  her  experiences  in  prayer 
so  baffled  and  so  put  out  all  her  confessors  that,  at  their 
wits'  end,  they  enjoined  her  to  draw  out  in  writing  a 
complete  account  of  a  secret  life,  the  occasional  and 
partial  discovery  of  which  so  amazed,  and  perplexed, 
and  condemned  them.  And  thus  it  is  that  we  come 
to  possess  this  unique  and  incomparable  autobiography  : 
this  wonderful  revelation  of  Teresa's  soul  in  prayer.  It 
is  a  book  in  which  we  see  a  woman  of  sovereign  intel- 
lectual ability  working  out  her  own  salvation  in  circum- 
stances so  different  from  our  own  that  we  have  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  believing  that  it  was  really  salvation 
at  all  she  was  so  working  out.  Till,  as  we  read  on  in 
humility  and  in  love,  we  learn  to  separate-off  all  that  is 
local,  and  secular,  and  ecclesiastical,  and  circumstantial, 
and  then  we  immensely  enjoy  and  take  lasting  profit 


SANTA  TERESA  27 

out  of  all  that  which  is  so  truly  Catholic  and  so  truly 
spiritual.  Teresa  was  an  extraordinary  woman  in  every 
way  :  and  that  comes  out  on  every  page  of  her  Auto- 
biography. So  extraordinary  that  I  confess  there  is  a 
great  deal  that  she  tells  us  about  herself  that  I  do  not 
at  all  understand.  She  was  Spanish,  and  we  are  Scottish. 
She  and  we  are  wide  as  the  poles  asunder.  Her  lot  was 
cast  of  God  in  the  sixteenth  century,  whereas  our  lot  is 
cast  in  the  twentieth.  She  was  a  Roman  Catholic  mystic, 
and  we  are  Evangelical  Protestants.  But  it  is  one  of 
the  great  rewards  of  studying  such  a  life  as  Teresa's  to 
be  able  to  change  places  with  her  so  as  to  understand 
her  and  love  her.  She  was,  without  any  doubt  or  con- 
tradiction, a  great  saint  of  God.  And  a  great  saint  of 
God  is  more  worthy  of  our  study  and  admiration  and 
imitation  and  love  than  any  other  study  or  admiration 
or  imitation  or  love  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  And  the 
further  away  such  a  saint  is  from  ourselves  the  better 
she  is  fitted  for  our  study  and  admiration  and  imitation 
and  love,  if  we  only  have  the  sense  and  the  grace  to  see  it. 
Cervantes  himself  might  have  written  Teresa's  Book 
of  the  Foundations.  Certainly  he  never  wTote  a  better 
book.  For  myself  I  have  read  Teresa's  Foundations 
twice  at  any  rate  for  every  once  I  have  read  Cervantes' 
masterpiece.  For  literature,  for  humour,  for  wit,  for 
nature,  for  photographic  pictures  of  the  time  and  the 
people,  her  Foundations  is  a  masterpiece  also  :  and  then, 
Teresa's  pictures  are  pictures  of  the  best  people  in  Spain. 
And  there  was  no  finer  people  in  the  whole  of  Christendom 
in  that  day  than  the  best  of  the  Spanish  people.  God 
had  much  people  in  the  Spain  of  that  day,  and  he  who 
is  not  glad  to  hear  that  will  never  have  a  place  among 
them.  The  Spain  of  that  century  was  full  of  family  Hfe 
of  the  most  polished  and  refined  kind.     And,  with  all 


28  SANTA  TERESA 

their  declensions  and  corruptions,  the  Rehgious  Houses 
of  Spain  enclosed  multitudes  of  the  most  saintly  men 
and  women.  '  I  never  read  of  a  hermit,'  said  Dr.  John- 
son to  Boswell  in  St.  Andrews,  '  but  in  imagination  I 
kiss  his  feet :  I  never  read  of  a  monastery,  but  I  could 
fall  on  my  knees  and  kiss  the  pavement.  I  have  thought 
of  retiring  myself,  and  have  talked  of  it  to  a  friend,  but 
I  find  my  vocation  is  rather  in  active  life.'  It  was  such 
monasteries  as  Teresa  founded  and  ruled,  and  of  which 
she  wrote  the  history  that  made  such  a  sturdy  Protestant 
as  Dr.  Johnson  say  such  a  thing  as  that.  The  Book 
of  the  Foundations  is  Teresa's  own  account,  written  also 
under  superior  orders,  of  that  great  group  of  Religious 
Houses  which  she  founded  and  administered  for  so  many 
years.  And  the  literature  into  which  she  puts  all  those 
years  is  literature  of  the  first  water.  A  thousand  times 
I  have  been  reminded  of  Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza 
as  I  read  Teresa's  account  of  her  journeys,  and  of  the 
people,  and  of  the  escapades,  and  of  the  entertainments 
she  met  with.  Yes,  quite  as  good  as  Cervantes  !  yes, 
quite  as  good  as  Goldsmith  ! — I  have  caught  myself 
exclaiming  as  I  read  and  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down 
my  cheeks.  This  is  literature,  this  is  art  without  the 
art,  this  is  literary  finish  without  the  labour  :  and  all 
laid  out  to  the  finest  of  all  uses,  to  tell  of  the  work  of  God, 
and  of  all  the  enterprises,  providences,  defeats,  successes, 
recompenses,  connected  with  it.  The  Foundations  is  a 
Christian  classic  even  in  Woodhead's  and  Dalton's  and 
David  Lewis's  English ;  what  must  it  be  then  to  those 
to  whom  Teresa's  exquisite  Spanish  is  their  mother- 
tongue  ! 

Teresa's  Way  of  Perfection  is  a  truly  fine  book  :  full 
of  freshness,  suggestiveness,  and  power.  So  much  so, 
that   I  question  if  William   Law's   Christian  Perfection 


SANTA  TERESA  29 

would  have  ever  been  written  but  that  Teresa  had  written 
on  that  same  subject  before  him.  I  do  not  mean  to  say- 
that  Law  plagiarised  from  Teresa,  but  some  of  his  very 
best  passages  are  plainly  inspired  by  his  great  prede- 
cessor. You  will  thank  me  for  the  following  eloquent 
passage  from  Mrs.  Cunninghame  Graham,  which  so 
felicitously  characterises  this  great  book,  and  that  in 
language  such  as  I  could  not  command.  '  To  my  think- 
ing Teresa  is  at  her  best  in  her  Way  of  Perfection  with 
its  bursts  of  impassioned  eloquence  ;  its  shrewd  and 
caustic  irony  ;  its  acute  and  penetrating  knowledge  of 
human  character,  the  same  in  the  convent  as  in  the 
world ;  above  all  in  its  sympathetic  and  tender  instinct 
for  the  needs  and  difficulties  of  her  daughters.  The 
Perfection  represents  the  finished  and  magnificent  fabric 
of  the  spiritual  life.  Her  words  ring  with  a  strange  terse- 
ness and  earnestness  as  she  here  pens  her  spiritual  testa- 
ment. She  points  out  the  mischievous  foibles,  the  little 
meannesses,  the  spirit  of  cantankerousness  and  strife, 
which  long  experience  of  the  cloister  had  shown  her  were 
the  besetting  sins  of  the  conventual  life.  She  places 
before  them  the  loftier  standard  of  the  Cross.  Her  words, 
direct  and  simple,  ring  out  true  and  clear,  producing 
somewhat  the  solemn  effect  of  a  Commination  Service.' 
Strong  as  that  estimate  is,  The  Perfection  deserves  every 
word  of  it  and  more. 

Teresa  thought  that  her  Mansions  was  one  of  her  best 
books,  but  she  was  surely  far  wrong  in  that.  The 
Mansions,  sometimes  called  The  Interior  Castle,  to  me  at 
any  rate,  is  a  most  shapeless,  monotonous,  and  weari- 
some book.  Teresa  had  a  splendid  imagination,  but  her 
imagination  had  not  the  architectonic  and  dramatic 
quality  that  is  necessary  for  carrying  out  such  a  concep- 
tion as  that  is  which  she  has  laid  in  the  ground-plan  of 


30  SANTA  TERESA 

this  book.  No  one  who  has  ever  read  The  Purgaiorio,  or 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  or  The  Holy  War  could  have 
patience  with  the  shapeless  and  inconsequent  Mansions. 
There  is  nothing  that  is  new  in  the  matter  of  the  Mansions  ; 
there  is  nothing  that  is  not  found  in  a  far  better  shape  in 
some  of  her  other  books  ;  and  one  is  continually  wearied 
out  by  her  utter  inability  to  handle  the  metaphoric 
imagery  that  she  will  not  let  alone.  At  the  same  time, 
the  persevering  reader  will  come  continually  on  charac- 
teristic things  that  are  never  to  be  forgotten  as  he  climbs 
with  Teresa  from  strength  to  strength  on  her  way  to  her 
Father's  House. 

To  my  mind  Teresa  is  at  her  very  best,  not  in  her 
Mansions  of  which  she  made  so  much,  but  in  her  Letters 
of  which  she  made  nothing.  I  think  I  prefer  her  Letters 
to  all  her  other  books.  A  great  service  was  done  to  this 
fine  field  of  literature  when  Teresa's  letters  were  collected 
and  published.  What  Dr.  Dods,  Augustine's  editor,  has  so 
well  said  about  Augustine's  letters  I  would  borrow  and 
would  apply  to  Teresa's  letters.  All  her  other  works  re- 
ceive fresh  light  from  her  letters.  The  subjects  of  her 
more  elaborate  writings  are  all  handled  in  her  letters  in  a 
far  easier,  a  far  more  natural,  and  a  far  more  attractive 
manner.  It  is  in  her  letters  that  we  first  see  the  size  and 
the  strength  and  the  sweep  of  her  mind,  and  discover 
the  deserved  deference  that  is  paid  to  her  on  all  hands. 
Burdened  churchmen,  inquiring  students  in  the  spiritual 
life,  perplexed  confessors,  angry  and  remonstrating  monks, 
husbands  and  wives,  matrons  and  maidens,  all  find  their 
way  to  Mother  Teresa.  Great  bundles  of  letters  are 
delivered  at  the  door  of  her  cell  every  day,  and  she  works 
at  her  answers  to  those  letters  till  a  bird  begins  to  flutter 
in  the  top  of  her  head,  after  which  her  physician  will  not 
suffer  her  to  write  more  than  twelve  letters  at  a  down- 


SANTA  TERESA  31 

sitting.  And  what  letters  they  are,  all  sealed  with  the 
name  of  Jesus — she  will  seal  now  with  no  other  seal. 
What  letters  of  a  strong  and  sound  mind  go  out  under 
that  seal  !  What  a  business  head  !  What  shrewdness, 
sagacity,  insight,  frankness,  boldness,  archness,  raillery, 
downright  fun  !  And  all  as  full  of  splendid  sense  as  an 
egg  is  full  of  meat.  If  Andrew  Bonar  had  only  read 
Spanish,  and  had  edited  Teresa's  Letters  as  he  has  edited 
Rutherford's,  we  would  have  had  that  great  treasure 
in  all  our  houses.  As  it  is,  Father  Coleridge  long  ago  fell 
on  the  happy  idea  of  compiling  a  Life  of  Teresa  out  of  her 
extant  letters,  and  he  has  at  last  carried  out  his  idea,  if 
not  in  all  its  original  fulness,  yet  in  a  very  admirable  and 
praiseworthy  way.  Of  Teresa's  Letters,  Mrs.  Cunning- 
hame  Graham,  that  greatest  modern  authority  on  Teresa, 
says — '  That  long  series  of  epistolary  correspondence,  so 
enchanting  in  the  original.  It  is  in  her  letters  that 
Teresa  is  at  her  best.  They  reveal  all  her  shrewdness 
about  business  and  money  matters ;  her  talent  for 
administration  ;  her  intense  interest  in  life,  and  in  all 
that  is  passing  around  her.  Her  letters  show  Teresa  as 
the  Castilian  gentlewoman  who  not  only  treats  on  terms 
of  perfect  equality  with  people  of  the  highest  rank  in  the 
kingdom,  but  is  in  the  greatest  request  by  them.  Her 
letters,  of  which  probably  only  a  tithe  remains,  show  us 
how  marvellously  the  horizon  of  her  life  had  expanded, 
and  how  rapidly  her  fame  had  grown.  Perhaps  no  more 
finished  specimen  of  epistolary  correspondence  has  ever 
been  penned  than  those  letters,  written  in  the  press  of 
multifarious  occupations,  and  often  late  at  night  when 
the  rest  of  the  convent  was  sleeping.' 

Her  confessor,  we  are  told,  commanded  Teresa  to 
throw  her  Commentary  on  the  Song  of  Solomon  into  the 
fire.     From  this  we  shall  perhaps  be  justified  in  inferring 


32  SANTA  TERESA 

that  in  his  opinion  she  had  somewhat  exceeded  the 
limits  which  even  the  most  allegorising  and  mystical  of 
interpreters  of  that  time  had  allowed  themselves. 
And  when  we  remember  that  the  text  she  commented 
on — with  a  confessedly  imperfect  understanding,  too — 
was  that  of  the  Vulgate  and  not  any  modern  version, 
it  is  quite  likely  that,  had  we  possessed  the  book  in  its 
completeness,  we  too  should  have  found  it  sometimes 
tedious,  not  seldom  grotesque,  and  often  neither  very 
wise  nor  very  profitable.  Yet,  judging  of  the  whole  by 
the  part  preserved  for  us  by  the  nun  who  burnt  her 
fingers  by  snatching  a  few  leaves  from  the  fire,  there 
must  have  been  many  things  scattered  up  and  down  the 
destroyed  book  well  worthy  of  her  best  pen.  The 
'  instance  of  self-esteem  '  which  Teresa  so  delightfully 
narrates  is  well  worth  all  the  burnt  fingers  its  preserva- 
tion had  cost  the  devoted  sister ;  and  up  and  down  the 
charred  leaves  there  are  passages  on  conduct  and  char- 
acter, on  obedience  and  humility  and  prayer,  that 
Teresa  alone  could  have  written. 

Her  Seven  Meditations  on  the  Lord's  Prayer  ran  no 
danger  of  the  censor's  fire.  I  have  had  occasion  to  read 
all  the  best  expositions  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  our  lan- 
guage, and  I  am  bound  to  say  that  for  originality  and  strik- 
ing suggestiveness  Teresa's  Seven  Meditations  stands  alone. 
After  I  had  written  that  extravagant-sounding  sentence 
I  went  back  and  read  her  little  book  over  again,  so  sure 
was  I  that  I  must  have  overpraised  it,  and  that  I  would 
not  be  believed  in  what  I  have  said  concerning  it.  But 
after  another  reading  of  the  Meditations  I  am  emboldened 
to  let  the  strong  praise  stand  in  all  its  original  strength. 
I  have  passages  marked  in  abundance  to  prove  to  demon- 
stration the  estimate  I  have  formed  of  this  beautiful 
book,  but  I  must  forgo  myself  the  pleasure  and  the  pride 
of  quoting  them. 


-     SANTA  TERESA  33 

Sixteen  Augustinian  Exclamations  after  having  Com- 
municated :  sixty-nine  Advices  to  Her  Daughters,  and  a 
small  collection  of  love-enflamed  Hymns,  complete  what 
remains  to  us  of  Teresa's  writings. 

Teresa  died  of  hard  work  and  worry  and  shameful 
neglect,  almost  to  sheer  starvation.  But  she  had  meat 
to  eat  that  all  Anne  Bartholomew's  remaining  mites 
could  not  buy  for  her  dying  mother.  And,  strong  in  the 
strength  of  that  spiritual  meat,  Teresa  rose  off  her  death- 
bed to  finish  her  work.  She  inspected  with  all  her  wonted 
quickness  of  eye  and  love  of  order  the  whole  of  the  House 
into  which  she  had  been  carried  to  die.  She  saw  every- 
thing put  into  its  proper  place,  and  every  one  answering 
to  their  proper  order,  after  which  she  attended  the  divine 
offices  for  the  day,  and  then  went  back  to  her  bed  and 
summoned  her  daughters  around  her.  '  My  children,' 
she  said,  '  you  must  pardon  me  much  ;  you  must  pardon 
me  most  of  all  the  bad  example  I  have  given  j^ou.  Do 
not  imitate  me.  Do  not  live  as  I  have  lived.  I  have 
been  the  greatest  sinner  in  all  the  world.  I  have  not 
kept  the  laws  I  made  for  others.  I  beseech  you,  my 
daughters,  for  the  love  of  God,  to  keep  the  rules  of  your 
Holy  Houses  as  I  have  never  kept  them.  O  my  Lord,' 
she  then  turned  to  Him  and  said,  '  the  hour  I  have  so 
much  longed  for  has  surely  come  at  last.  The  time  has 
surely  come  that  we  shall  see  one  another.  My  Lord 
and  Saviour,  it  is  surely  time  for  me  to  be  taken  out  of 
this  banishment  and  be  for  ever  with  Thee.  The  sacri; 
fices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit,  a  broken  and  a  contrite 
heart,  O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise.  Cast  me  not  away 
from  Thy  presence,  and  take  not  Thy  Holy  Spirit  away 
from  me.  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God.  A  broken 
and  a  contrite  heart ;  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart,' 
was  her  continual  cry  till  she  died  with  these  words  on 


34  SANTA  TERESA 

her  lips,  '  A  broken  and  a  contrite  heart  Thou  wilt  not 
despise.'  And,  thus,  with  the  most  penitential  of  David's 
penitential  Psalms  in  her  mouth,  and  with  the  holy 
candle  of  her  Church  in  her  hand,  Teresa  of  Jesus  went 
forth  from  her  banishment  to  meet  her  Bridegroom. 

'  O  sweet  incendiary  !  shew  liere  thy  art 
Upon  this  carcass  of  a  cold  hard  heart ; 
Let  all  thy  scatter'd  shafts  of  light  that  play 
Among  the  leaves  of  thy  large  hooks  of  day. 
Combined  against  this  breast  at  once  break  in 
And  take  away  from  me  myself  and  sin  ; 
This  gracious  robbery  shall  thy  bounty  be, 
And  thy  best  fortune  such  fair  spoils  of  me. 
O  thou  undaunted  daughter  of  desires  ! 
By  all  thy  dower  of  lights  and  fires  ; 
By  all  the  eagle  in  thee,  all  the  dove ; 
By  all  thy  lives  and  deaths  of  love  ; 
By  thy  large  draughts  of  intellectual  day  ; 
And  all  thy  thirsts  of  love  more  large  than  they  ; 
By  all  thy  brim-filled  bowls  of  fierce  desire  ; 
By  thy  last  morning's  draught  of  liquid  fire  ; 
By  the  full  kingdom  of  that  final  kiss 
That  seized  thy  parting  soul,  and  sealed  thee  His  ; 
By  all  the  Heavens  thou  hast  in  Him, 
(Fair  sister  of  the  Seraphim  !)  ; 
By  all  of  Him  we  have  in  thee  ; — 
Leave  nothing  of  myself  in  me. 
Let  me  so  read  thy  life,  that  I 
Unto  all  life  of  mine  may  die.' 

THEODIDACTA 

AFFICIENS 

INFLAMMANS. 


JACOB    BEHMEN 

Jacob  Behmen,  the  greatest  of  the  mystics,  and  the 
father  of  German  philosophy,  was  all  his  life  nothing 
better  than  a  working  shoemaker.  He  was  born  at  Old 
Seidenberg,  a  village  near  Goerlitz  in  Silesia,  in  the  year 
1575,  and  he  died  at  Goerlitz  in  the  year  1624.  Jacob 
Behmen  has  no  biography.  Jacob  Behmen's  books  are 
his  best  biography.  While  working  with  his  hands, 
Jacob  Behmen's  whole  life  was  spent  in  the  deepest  and 
the  most  original  thought ;  in  joiercing  visions  of  God 
and  of  nature ;  in  prayer,  in  praise,  and  in  love  to  God 
and  man.  Of  Jacob  Behmen  it  may  be  said  with  the 
utmost  truth  and  soberness  that  he  lived  and  moved  and 
had  his  being  in  God.  Jacob  Behmen  has  no  biography 
because  his  whole  life  was  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 

While  we  have  nothing  that  can  properly  be  called  a 
biography  of  Jacob  Behmen,  we  have  ample  amends 
made  to  us  in  those  priceless  morsels  of  autobiography 
that  lie  scattered  so  plentifully  up  and  down  all  his  books. 
And  nothing  could  be  more  charming  than  just  those 
incidental  and  unstudied  utterances  of  Behmen  about 
himself.  Into  the  very  depths  of  a  passage  of  the  pro- 
foundest  speculation  Behmen  will  all  of  a  sudden  throw 
a  few  verses  of  the  most  childlike  and  heart-winning  con- 
fidences about  his  own  mental  history  and  his  own 
spiritual  experience.     And  thus  it  is  that,  without  at  all 

35 


86  JACOB  BEHMEN 

intending  it,  Behmen  has  left  behind  him  a  complete 
history  of  his  great  mind  and  his  holy  heart  in  those 
outbursts  of  diffidence,  deprecation,  explanation,  and 
self-defence,  of  which  his  philosophical  and  theological, 
as  well  as  his  apologetic  and  experimental,  books  are  all 
so  full.  It  were  an  immense  service  done  to  our  best 
literature  if  some  of  Behmen's  students  would  go  through 
all  Behmen's  books,  so  as  to  make  a  complete  collection 
and  composition  of  the  best  of  those  autobiographic 
passages.  Such  a  book,  if  it  were  well  done,  would  at 
once  take  rank  with  Tlie  Confessions  of  St.  Augustine, 
The  Divine  Comedy  of  Dante,  and  the  Grace  Abounding 
of  John  Bunyan.  It  would  then  be  seen  by  all,  what 
few,  till  then,  will  believe,  that  Jacob  Behmen's  mind  and 
heart  and  spiritual  experience  all  combine  to  give  him  a 
foremost  place  among  the  most  classical  masters  in 
that  great  field  of  religion  and  literature. 

In  the  nineteenth  chapter  of  the  Aurora  there  occurs  a 
very  important  passage  of  this  autobiographic  nature. 
In  that  famous  passage  Behmen  tells  his  readers  that 
when  his  eyes  first  began  to  be  opened,  the  sight  of  this 
world  completely  overwhelmed  him.  Asaph's  experi- 
ences, so  powerfully  set  before  us  in  the  seventy-third 
Psalm,  will  best  convey,  to  those  who  do  not  know  Beh- 
men, what  Behmen  also  passed  through  before  he  drew 
near  to  God.  Like  that  so  thoughtful  Psalmist,  Behmen's 
steps  had  wellnigh  slipped  when  he  saw  the  prosperitj'' 
of  the  wicked,  and  when  he  saw  how  waters  of  a  full 
cup  were  so  often  wrung  out  to  the  people  of  God.  The 
mystery  of  human  life,  the  sin  and  misery  of  human  life, 
cast  Behmen  into  a  deep  and  inconsolable  melancholy. 
No  Scripture  could  comfort  him.  His  thoughts  of  God 
were  such  that  he  vnW  not  allow  himself,  even  after  they 
are  long  past,  to  put  them  down  on  paper.    In  this  terrible 


JACOB  BEHMEN  37 

trouble  he  lifted  up  his  heart  to  God,  little  knowing,  as 
yet,  what  God  was,  or  what  his  own  heart  was.  Only, 
he  wrapped  up  his  whole  heart,  and  mind,  and  will,  and 
desire  in  the  love  and  the  mercy  of  God  :  determined 
not  to  give  over  till  God  had  heard  him  and  had  helped 
him.  '  And  then,  when  I  had  wholly  hazarded  my  life 
upon  what  I  was  doing,  my  whole  sj)irit  seemed  to  me 
suddenly  to  break  out  through  the  gates  of  hell,  and  to 
be  taken  up  into  the  arms  and  the  heart  of  God.  I  can 
compare  it  to  nothing  else  but  the  resurrection  at  the  last 
day.  For  then,  with  all  reverence  I  say  it,  with  the  eyes 
of  my  spirit  I  saw  God.  I  saw  both  what  God  is,  and  I 
saw  how  God  is  what  He  is.  And  with  that  there  came  a 
mighty  and  an  incontrollable  imj^ulse  to  set  it  down,  so 
as  to  preserve  what  I  had  seen.  Some  men  will  mock  me, 
and  will  tell  me  to  stick  to  my  proper  trade,  and  not 
trouble  my  mind  with  philosophy  and  theology.  Let 
these  high  matters  alone.  Leave  them  to  those  who  have 
both  the  time  and  the  talent  for  them,  they  will  say. 
So  I  have  often  said  to  myself,  but  the  truth  of  God  did 
burn  in  my  bones  till  I  took  pen  and  ink  and  began  to  set 
down  what  I  had  seen.  All  this  time  do  not  mistake  me 
for  a  saint  or  an  angel.  My  heart,  as  well  as  yours,  is 
full  of  all  evil.  In  malice,  and  in  hatred,  and  in  lack  of 
brotherly  love,  after  all  I  have  seen  and  experienced, 
I  am  like  all  other  men.  I  am  surely  the  fullest  of  all 
men  of  all  manner  of  infirmity  and  malignity.'  Behmen 
protests  in  every  book  of  his  that  what  he  has  written 
he  has  received  immediately  from  God.  '  Let  it  never  be 
imagined  that  I  am  any  greater  or  any  better  than  other 
men.  When  the  S^Dirit  of  God  is  taken  away  from  me 
I  cannot  even  read  so  as  to  understand  what  I  have 
myself  written.  I  have  every  day  to  wrestle  with  the 
devil  and  Avith  my  own  heart,  no  man  in  all  the  world 


38  JACOB  BEHMEN 

more.  Oh  no  !  thou  must  not  for  one  moment  think  of 
me  as  if  I  had  by  my  own  power  or  hohness  cHmbed  up 
into  heaven  or  descended  into  the  abyss.  Oh  no  !  hear 
me.  I  am  as  thou  art.  I  have  no  more  hght  than  thou 
hast.  Let  no  man  think  of  me  what  I  am  not.  But 
what  I  am  all  men  may  be  who  will  truly  believe,  and 
will  truly  wrestle  for  truth  and  goodness  under  Jesus 
Christ.  I  marvel  every  day  that  God  should  reveal 
both  the  Divine  Nature  and  Temporal  and  Eternal 
Nature  for  the  first  time  to  such  a  simple  and  unlearned 
man  as  I  am.  But  what  am  I  to  resist  what  God  will 
do  ?  What  am  I  to  say  but,  Behold  the  son  of  thine 
handmaiden  !  I  have  often  besought  Him  to  take  these 
too  high  and  too  deep  matters  away  from  off  me,  and  to 
commit  them  to  men  of  more  learning  and  of  a  better 
style  of  speech.  But  He  always  put  my  prayer  away 
from  Him  and  continued  to  kindle  His  fire  in  my  bones. 
And  with  all  my  striving  to  quench  God's  spirit  of  revela- 
tion, I  found  that  I  had  only  by  that  gathered  the  more 
stones  for  the  house  that  He  had  ordained  me  to  build 
for  Him  and  for  His  children  in  this  world.' 

Jacob  Behmen's  first  book,  his  Aurora,  was  not  a  book 
at  all  but  a  bundle  of  loose  leaves.  Nothing  was  further 
from  Behmen's  mind,  when  he  took  up  his  pen  of  an 
evening,  than  to  make  a  book.  He  took  up  his  pen  after 
his  day's  work  was  over  in  order  to  preserve  for  his  own 
memory  and  use  m  after  days  the  revelations  that  had 
been  made  to  him,  and  the  experiences  and  exercises 
through  which  God  had  passed  him.  And,  besides, 
Jacob  Behmen  could  not  have  written  a  book  even  if 
he  had  tried  it.  He  was  a  total  stranger  to  the  world  of 
books  ;  and  then,  over  and  above  that,  he  had  been 
taken  up  into  a  world  of  things  into  which  no  book  ever 
written  as  yet  had  dared  to  enter.     Again,  and  again, 


JACOB  BEHMEN  39 

and  again,  till  it  came  to  fill  his  whole  life,  Behmen  -would 
be  sitting  over  his  work,  or  walking  abroad  under  the 
stars,  or  worshipping  in  his  pew  in  the  parish  church, 
when,  like  the  captive  prophet  by  the  river  of  Chebar, 
he  would  be  caught  in  rapturous  ecstasy  and  carried 
away  into  the  visions  of  God  to  behold  the  glory  of 
God.  And  then,  when  he  came  to  himself,  there  would 
arise  within  him  a  '  fiery  instigation  '  to  set  down  for  a 
'  memorial '  what  he  had  again  seen  and  heard.  '  The 
gate  of  the  Divine  Mystery  was  sometimes  so  opened  to 
me  that  in  one  quarter  of  an  hour  I  saw  and  knew  more 
than  if  I  had  been  many  years  together  at  a  university. 
At  which  I  did  exceedingly  admire,  and,  though  it  passed 
my  understanding  how  it  happened,  I  thereupon  turned 
my  heart  to  God  to  praise  Him  for  it.  For  I  saw  and 
knew  the  Being  of  all  Beings  ;  the  Byss  and  the  Abyss  ; 
as,  also,  the  Generation  of  the  Son  and  the  Procession  of 
the  Spirit.  I  saw  the  descent  and  original  of  this  world 
also,  and  of  all  its  creatures.  I  saw  in  their  order  and 
outcome  the  Divine  world,  the  angelical  world,  paradise, 
and  then  this  fallen  and  dark  world  of  our  own.  I  saw 
the  beginning  of  the  good  and  the  evil,  and  the  true 
origin  and  existence  of  each  of  them.  All  of  which  did 
not  only  cause  me  great  wonder  but  also  a  great  joy  and 
a  great  fear.  And  then  it  came  with  commanding  power 
into  my  mind  that  I  must  set  down  the  same  in  pen  and 
ink  for  a  memorial  to  myself  ;  albeit,  I  could  hardly 
contain  or  express  what  I  had  seen.  For  twelve  years 
this  went  on  in  me.  Sometimes  the  truth  would  hit 
me  like  a  sudden  smiting  storm  of  rain  ;  and  then  there 
would  be  the  clear  sunshine  after  the  rain.  All  which 
was  to  teach  me  that  God  will  manifest  Himself  in  the 
soul  of  man  after  what  manner  and  what  measure  it 
pleases  Him  and  as  it  seems  good  in  His  sight.' 


40  JACOB  BEHMEN 

No  human  being  knew  all  this  time  what  Jacob  Behmen 
was  passing  through,  and  he  never  intended  that  any- 
human  being  should  know.  But,  with  all  his  humility, 
and  all  his  love  of  obscurity,  he  could  not  remain  hidden. 
Just  how  it  came  about  we  are  not  fully  told  ;  but  long 
before  his  book  was  finished,  a  nobleman  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, who  was  deeply  interested  in  the  philosophy 
and  the  theology  of  that  day,  somehow  got  hold  of  Beh- 
men's  papers  and  had  them  copied  out  and  spread  abroad, 
to  Behmen's  great  surprise  and  great  distress.  Copy 
after  copy  was  stealthily  made  of  Behmen's  manuscript, 
till,  most  unfortunately  for  both  of  them,  a  copy  came 
into  the  hands  of  Behmen's  parish  minister.  But  for 
that  accident,  so  to  call  it,  we  would  never  have  heard 
the  name  of  Gregory  Richter,  First  Minister  of  Goerlitz, 
nor  could  we  have  believed  that  any  minister  of  Jesus 
Christ  could  have  gone  so  absolutely  insane  with  ignor- 
ance and  envy  and  anger  and  ill-will.  The  libel  is  still 
preserved  that  Behmen's  minister  drew  out  against  the 
author  of  Aurora,  and  the  only  thing  it  proves  to  us  is 
this,  that  its  author  must  have  been  a  dull-headed,  coarse- 
hearted,  foul-mouthed  man.  Richter's  persecution  of 
poor  Behmen  caused  Behmen  lifelong  trouble  ;  but,  at 
the  same  time,  it  served  to  advertise  his  genius  to  his 
generation,  and  to  manifest  to  all  men  the  meekness,  the 
humility,  the  docility,  and  the  love  of  peace  of  the  perse- 
cuted man.  '  Pastor-Primarius  Richter,'  says  a  bishop 
of  his  own  communion,  '  was  a  man  full  of  hierarchical 
arrogance  and  pride.  He  had  only  the  most  outward 
apprehension  of  the  dogmatics  of  his  day,  and  he  was 
totally  incapable  of  understanding  Jacob  Behmen.'  But 
it  is  not  for  the  limitations  of  his  understanding  that 
Pastor  Richter  stands  before  us  so  laden  with  blame. 
The  school  is  still  a  small  one  that,  after  two  centuries  of 


JACOB  BEHMEN  41 

study  and  prayer  and  a  holy  life,  can  pretend  to  under- 
stand the  whole  of  the  Aurora.  William  Law,  a  man  of 
the  best  vmderstanding  and  of  the  humblest  heart  tells 
us  that  his  first  reading  of  Behmen  put  him  into  a  '  perfect 
sweat '  of  astonishment  and  awe.  No  wonder,  then,  that 
a  man  of  Gregory  Richter's  narrow  mind  and  hard  heart 
was  thrown  into  such  a  fiendish  sweat  of  prejudice  and 
anger  and  ill-will. 

I  do  not  propose  to  take  you  down  into  the  deep  places 
where  Jacob  Behmen  dwells  and  works.  And  that  for 
a  very  good  reason.  For  I  have  found  no  firm  footing 
in  those  deep  places  for  my  own  feet.  I  wade  in  and  in 
to  the  utmost  of  my  ability,  and  still  there  rise  up  above 
me,  and  stretch  out  around  me,  and  sink  down  beneath 
me,  vast  reaches  of  revelation  and  speculation,  attain- 
ment and  experience,  before  which  I  can  only  wonder 
and  worship.  See  Jacob  Behmen  working  with  his  hands 
in  his  solitary  stall,  when  he  is  suddenly  caught  up  into 
heaven  till  he  beholds  in  enraptured  vision  The  IMost 
High  Himself.  And  then,  after  that,  see  him  swept 
down  to  hell,  down  to  sin,  and  down  into  the  bottomless 
pit  of  the  human  heart.  Jacob  Behmen,  almost  more 
than  any  other  man  whatsoever,  is  carried  uj)  till  he  moves 
like  a  holy  angel  or  a  glorified  saint  among  things  unseen 
and  eternal.  Jacob  Behmen  is  of  the  race  of  the  seers, 
and  he  stands  out  a  very  prince  among  them.  He  is 
full  of  eyes,  and  all  his  eyes  are  full  of  light.  It  does  not 
stagger  me  to  hear  his  disciples  calling  him,  as  Hegel 
does,  '  a  man  of  a  mighty  mind,'  or,  as  Law  does,  *  the 
illuminated  Behmen,'  and  '  the  blessed  Behmen.'  '  In 
speculative  power,'  says  dry  Dr.  Kurtz,  '  and  in  poetic 
wealth,  exhibited  with  epic  and  dramatic  effect,  Behmen's 
system  surpasses  everything  of  the  kind  ever  written.' 
Some  of  his  disciples  have  the  hardihood  to  affirm  indeed 


42  JACOB  BEHMEN 

that  even  Isaac  Newton  ploughed  with  Behmen's  heifer, 
but  had  not  the  boldness  to  acknowledge  the  debt.  I 
entirely  accept  it  when  his  disciples  assert  it  of  their 
master  that  he  had  a  privilege  and  a  passport  permitted 
him  such  as  no  mortal  man  has  had  the  like  since  John's 
eyes  closed  upon  his  completed  Apocalypse.  After  re- 
peated and  prolonged  reading  of  Behmen's  amazing 
books,  nothing  has  been  said  by  his  most  ecstatic  dis- 
ciples about  their  adored  master  that  either  astonishes  or 
offends  me.  Dante  himself  does  not  beat  such  a  soaring 
wing  as  Behmen's  ;  and  all  the  trumpets  that  sound  in 
Paradise  Lost  do  not  swell  my  heart  and  chase  its  blood 
like  Jacob's  Behmen  broken  syllables  about  the  Fall.  I 
would  not  wonder  to  have  it  pointed  out  to  me  in  the 
world  to  come  that  all  that  Gichtel,  and  St.  Martin,  and 
Hegel,  and  Law,  and  Walton,  and  Martensen,  and  Hart- 
mann  have  said  about  Jacob  Behmen  and  his  visions  of 
God  and  Nature  and  Man  were  all  but  literally  true. 
No  doubt, — nay,  the  thing  is  certain, — that  if  you  open 
Jacob  Behmen  anywhere  as  Gregory  Richter  opened  the 
Aurora  ;  if  a  new  idea  is  a  pain  and  a  provocation  to  you  ; 
if  you  have  any  prejudice  in  your  heart  for  any  reason 
against  Behmen  ;  if  you  dislike  the  sound  of  his  name 
because  some  one  you  dislike  has  discovered  him  and 
praised  him,  or  because  you  do  not  yourself  already 
know  him  and  love  him,  then,  no  doubt,  you  will  find 
plenty  in  Behmen  at  which  to  stumble,  and  which  will 
amply  justify  you  in  anything  you  wish  to  say  against 
him.  But  if  you  are  a  true  student  and  a  good  man  ;  if 
you  are  an  open-minded  and  a  humble-minded  man ;  if 
you  are  prepared  to  sit  at  any  man's  feet  who  will  engage 
to  lead  you  a  single  step  out  of  your  ignorance  and  your 
evil ;  if  you  open  Behmen  with  a  predisposition  to  be- 
lieve in  him,  and  with  the  expectation  and  the  determina- 


JACOB  BEHMEN  43 

tion  to  get  good  out  of  him, — then,  in  the  measure  of  all 
that ;  in  the  measure  of  your  capacity  of  mind  and  your 
hospitality  of  heart ;  in  the  measure  of  your  humility, 
seriousness,  patience,  teachableness,  hunger  for  truth, 
hunger  for  righteousness, — in  that  measure  you  will 
find  Jacob  Behmen  to  be  what  Frederick  Maurice  tells 
us  he  found  him  to  be,  '  a  generative  thinker.'  Out  of 
much  you  cannot  understand, — wherever  the  blame  for 
that  may  lie, — out  of  much  slag  and  much  dross,  I  am 
mistaken  if  you  will  not  lay  up  some  of  your  finest  ^t' 
gold  ;  and  out  of  much  straw  and  chaff  some  of  the 
finest  of  the  wheat.  The  Divine  Nature,  human  nature, 
time,  space,  matter,  life,  love,  sin,  death,  holiness,  heaven, 
hell, — Behmen's  reader  must  have  lived  and  moved  all 
his  days  among  such  things  as  these  :  he  must  be  at 
home,  as  far  as  the  mind  of  man  can  be  at  home,  among 
such  things  as  these,  and  then  he  will  begin  to  understand 
Behmen,  and  will  still  strive  better  and  better  to  under- 
stand him  ;  and,  where  he  does  not  as  yet  understand  him, 
he  will  set  that  down  to  his  own  inattention,  incapacity, 
want  of  due  preparation,  and  want  of  the  proper  ripeness 
for  such  a  study. 

At  the  same  time,  let  all  intending  students  of  Jacob 
Behmen  take  warning  that  they  will  have  to  learn  an 
absolutely  new  and  an  unheard-of  language  if  they  would 
speak  with  Behmen  and  have  Behmen  speak  with  them. 
For  Behmen's  books  are  written  neither  in  German  nor 
in  English  of  any  age  or  idiom,  but  in  the  most  original 
and  uncouth  Behmenese.  Like  John  Bunyan,  but  never 
with  John  Bunyan's  literary  grace,  Behmen  will  borrow, 
now  a  Latin  word  or  phrase  from  his  reading  of  learned 
authors,  or,  more  often,  from  the  conversations  of  his 
learned  friends  ;  and  then  he  will  take  some  astrological 
or  alchemical   expression  of  Agripjja   or  Paracelsus   or 


44  JACOB  BEHMEN 

some  such  outlaw,  and  will,  as  with  his  awl  and  rosin- 
end,  sew  together  a  sentence,  and  hammer  together  a  page 
of  the  most  incongruous  and  unheard-of  phraseology,  till, 
as  we  read  Behmen's  earlier  work  especially,  we  continu- 
ally exclaim,  O  for  a  chapter  of  John  Bunyan's  clear, 
and  sweet,  and  classical  English !  The  Aurora  was 
written  in  a  language,  if  writing  and  a  language  it  can  be 
called,  that  had  never  been  seen  written  or  heard  spoken 
before,  or  has  since,  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  And  as 
our  students  learn  Greek  in  order  to  read  Homer  and 
Plato  and  Paul  and  John,  and  Latin  in  order  to  read 
Virgil  and  Tacitus,  and  Italian  to  read  Dante,  and  German 
to  read  Goethe,  so  William  Law  tells  us  that  he  learned 
Behmen's  Behmenite  High  Dutch,  and  that  too  after  he 
was  an  old  man,  in  order  that  he  might  completely 
master  the  Aurora  and  its  kindred  books.  And  as  our 
schoolboys  laugh  and  jeer  at  the  outlandish  sounds  of 
Greek  and  Latin  and  German,  till  they  have  learned  to 
read  and  love  the  great  authors  who  have  written  in  those 
languages,  so  Rutherford,  and  Wesley,  and  Southey,  and 
even  Hallam  himself,  jest  and  flout  and  call  names  at 
Jacob  Behmen,  because  they  have  not  taken  the  trouble 
to  learn  his  language,  to  master  his  mind,  and  to  drink 
in  his  spirit. 

At  the  same  time,  and  after  all  that  had  been  said  about 
Behmen's  barbarous  style,  Bishop  Martensen  tells  us  how 
the  readers  of  Schelling  were  surprised  and  enraptured  by 
a  wealth  of  new  expressions  and  new  turns  of  speech  in 
their  mother  tongue.  But  all  these  belonged  to  Behmen, 
or  were  fashioned  on  the  model  of  his  symbolical  language. 
As  it  is,  with  all  his  astrology,  and  all  his  alchemy,  and 
all  his  barbarities  of  form  and  expression,  I  for  one  will 
always  take  sides  with  the  author  of  The  Serious  Call,  and 
The  Spirit  of  Prayer,  and  The  Spirit  of  Love,  and  The  Way 


JACOB  BEHMEN  45 

to  Divine  Knowledge,  in  the  disputed  matter  of  Jacob 
Behmen's  sanity  and  sanctity  ;  and  I  will  continue  to 
believe  that  if  I  had  only  had  the  scholarship,  and  the 
intellect,  and  the  patience,  and  the  enterprise,  to  have 
mastered,  through  all  their  intricacies,  the  Behmenite 
grammar  and  the  Behmenite  vocabulary,  I  also  would 
have  found  in  Behmen  all  that  Freher  and  Pordage  and 
Law  and  Walton  found.  Even  in  the  short  way  into  this 
great  man  that  I  have  gone,  I  have  come  ui^on  such  rare 
and  rich  mines  of  divine  and  eternal  truth  that  I  can 
easily  believe  that  they  who  have  dug  deeper  have  come 
upon  uncounted  riches.  '  Next  to  the  Scriptures,'  writes 
William  Law,  '  my  only  book  is  the  illuminated  Behmen. 
For  the  whole  kingdom  of  grace  and  nature  was  opened 
in  him.  In  reading  Behmen  I  am  always  at  home,  and 
kept  close  to  the  kingdom  of  God  that  is  within  me.' 
'  I  am  not  young,'  said  Louis  Claude  de  St.  Martin,  '  being 
now  near  my  fiftieth  year,  nevertheless  I  have  begun  to 
learn  German,  in  order  that  I  may  read  this  incomparable 
author  in  his  own  tongue.  I  have  written  some  not 
unacceptable  books  myself,  but  I  am  not  worthy  to 
unloose  the  shoestrings  of  this  wonderful  man.  I  advise 
you  to  throw  yourself  into  the  depths  of  Jacob  Behmen. 
There  is  such  a  profundity  and  exaltation  of  truth  in  them, 
and  such  a  simple  and  delicious  nutriment.' 

The  Town  Council  of  Goerlitz,  hounded  on  by  their 
minister,  sentenced  Behmen  to  be  banished  and  inter- 
dicted him  from  ever  writing  any  more.  But  in  sheer 
shame  at  what  they  had  done  they  immediately  recalled 
Behmen  from  banishment ;  only,  they  insisted  that  he 
should  confine  himself  to  his  shop,  and  leave  all  writing 
of  books  alone.  Behmen  had  no  ambition  to  write  any 
more,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  kept  silence  even  to 
himself  for  seven  Avhole  years.     But  as  those  years  went 


46  JACOB  BEHMEN 

on  it  came  to  be  with  him,  to  use  his  own  words,  as  with 
so  much  grain  that  has  been  buried  in  the  earth,  and 
which,  in  spite  of  storms  and  tempests,  will,  out  of  its 
own  hfe,  spring  up,  and  that  even  when  reason  says  it 
is  now  winter,  and  that  all  hope  and  all  power  is  gone. 
And  thus  it  was  that,  under  the  same  instigation  wliich 
had  produced  the  Aurora,  Behmen  at  a  rush  wrote  his 
very  fine  if  very  difficult  book.  The  Three  Principles  of 
the  Divine  Essence.  He  calls  The  Three  Principles  his 
ABC,  and  the  easiest  of  all  his  books.  And  William 
Law  recommends  all  beginners  in  Behmen  to  read  alone 
for  some  sufficient  time  the  tenth  and  twelfth  chapters 
of  The  Three  Principles,  I  shall  let  Behmen  describe 
the  contents  of  his  easiest  book  in  his  own  words.  '  In 
this  second  book,'  he  says,  '  there  is  declared  Avhat  God 
is,  what  Nature  is,  what  the  creatures  are,  what  the  love 
and  meekness  of  God  are,  what  God's  will  is,  what  the 
wrath  of  God  is,  and  what  joy  and  sorrow  are.  As  also, 
how  all  things  took  their  beginning :  with  the  true 
difference  between  eternal  and  transitory  creatures. 
Specially  of  man  and  his  soul,  what  the  soul  is,  and  how 
it  is  an  eternal  creature.  Also  what  heaven  is,  wherein 
God  and  the  holy  angels  and  holy  men  dwell,  and  hell 
wherein  the  devils  dwell :  and  how  all  things  were  origin- 
ally created  and  had  their  being.  In  sum,  what  the 
Essence  of  all  Essences  is.  And  thus  I  commit  my 
reader  to  the  sweet  love  of  God.'  The  Three  Principles, 
according  to  Christopher  Walton,  was  the  first  book  of 
Behmen's  that  William  Law  ever  held  in  his  hand.  That, 
then,  was  the  title-page,  and  those  were  the  contents, 
that  threw  that  princely  and  saintly  mind  into  such  a 
sweat.  It  was  a  great  day  for  William  Law,  and  through 
him  it  was,  and  will  yet  be  acknowledged  to  have  been,  a 
great  day  for  English  theology  when  he  chanced,  at  an 


JACOB  BEHMEN  47 

old  bookstall,  upon  The  Three  Principles,  Englished  by 
a  Barrister  of  the  Inner  Temple.  The  picture  of  that 
bookstall  that  day  is  engraven  in  lines  of  light  and  love 
on  the  heart  of  every  grateful  reader  of  Jacob  Behmen 
and  of  William  Law's  later  and  richer  and  riper  writings. 

In  three  months  after  he  had  finished  The  Three 
Principles,  Behmen  had  composed  a  companion  treatise, 
entitled  The  Threefold  Life  of  Man.  Modest  about  him- 
self as  Behmen  always  was,  he  could  not  be  wholly  blind 
about  his  own  incomparable  books.  And  he  but  spoke  the 
simple  truth  about  his  third  book  when  he  said  of  it — 
as,  indeed,  he  was  constantly  saying  about  all  his  books 
— that  it  will  serve  every  reader  just  according  to  his 
constellation,  his  inclination,  his  disposition,  his  com- 
plexion, his  profession,  and  his  whole  condition.  '  You 
will  be  soon  weary  of  all  contentious  books,'  he  wrote  to 
Casper  Lindern,  '  if  you  entertain  and  get  The  Threefold 
Life  of  Man  into  your  mind  and  heart.'  '  The  subject 
of  regeneration,'  says  Christopher  Walton,  *  is  the  pith 
and  drift  of  all  Behmen's  writings,  and  the  student  may 
here  be  directed  to  begin  his  course  of  study  by  master- 
ing the  first  eight  chapters  of  The  Threefold  Life,  which 
appear  to  have  been  in  great  favour  with  Mr.  Law.' 

Behmen's  next  book  was  a  very  extraordinary  piece 
of  work,  and  it  had  a  very  extraordinary  origin.  A 
certain  Balthazar  Walter,  who  seems  to  have  been 
a  second  Paracelsus  in  his  love  of  knowledge  and  in 
his  lifelong  pursuit  of  knowledge,  had,  Hke  Paracelsus, 
travelled  east,  and  west,  and  north,  and  south  in  search 
of  that  ancient  and  occult  wisdom  of  which  so  many  men 
in  that  day  dreamed.  But  Walter,  like  his  predecessor 
Paracelsus,  had  come  home  from  his  travels  a  humbler 
man,  a  wiser  man,  and  a  man  more  ready  to  learn  and 
lay  to  heart  the  truth  that  one  of  his  own  countrymen 


48  JACOB  BEHMEN 

could  all  the  time  have  taught  him.  On  his  return  from 
the  east,  Walter  found  the  name  of  Jacob  Behmen  in 
everybody's  mouth  ;  and,  on  introducing  himself  to  that 
little  shop  in  Goerlitz  out  of  which  the  Aurora  and  The 
Threefold  Life  had  come,  Walter  was  wise  enough  to  see 
and  bold  enough  to  confess  that  he  had  found  a  teacher 
and  a  friend  there  such  as  neither  Egypt  nor  India  had 
provided  him  with.  After  many  immensely  interested 
visits  to  Jacob  Behmen's  workshop,  Walter  was  more 
than  satisfied  that  Behmen  was  all,  and  more  than  all, 
that  his  most  devoted  admirers  had  said  he  was.  And, 
accordingly,  Walter  laid  a  plan  so  as  to  draw  upon 
Behmen's  profound  and  original  mind  for  a  solution  of 
some  of  the  philosophical  and  theological  problems  that 
were  agitating  and  dividing  the  learned  men  of  that  day. 
With  that  view  Walter  made  a  round  of  the  leading 
universities  of  Germany,  conversed  with  the  professors 
and  students,  collected  a  long  list  of  the  questions  that 
were  being  debated  in  that  day  in  those  seats  of  learning, 
and  sent  the  list  to  Behmen,  asking  him  to  give  his  mind 
to  them  and  tiy  to  answer  them.  '  Beloved  sir,'  ^vrote 
Behmen,  after  three  months'  meditation  and  prayer, 
'  and  my  good  friend  :  it  is  impossible  for  the  mind  and 
reason  of  man  to  answer  all  the  questions  you  have  put 
to  me.  All  those  things  are  known  to  God  alone.  But, 
that  no  man  may  boast,  He  sometimes  makes  use  of  very 
mean  men  to  make  known  His  truth,  that  it  may  be  seen 
and  acknowledged  to  come  from  His  own  hand  alone.' 
It  is  told  that  when  Charles  the  First  read  the  English 
translation  of  Behmen's  answers  to  the  Forty  Questions, 
he  wrote  to  the  publisher  that  if  Jacob  Behmen  was  no 
scholar,  then  the  Holy  Ghost  was  still  with  men  ;  and, 
if  he  was  a  learned  man,  then  his  book  was  one  of  the 
best  inventions  that  had  ever  been  written.     The  Forty 


JxVCOB  BEHMEN  49 

Questions  ran  through  many  editions  both  on  the  Con- 
tinent and  in  England,  and  it  was  this  book  that  gained 
for  Jacob  Bchmen  the  denomination  of  the  Teutonic 
Philosopher,  a  name  by  which  he  is  distinguished  among 
authors  to  this  day.  '  He  is  known,'  says  Hegel,  '  as  the 
Philosophus  Teutonicus,  and,  in  reality,  through  him  for 
the  first  time  did  philosophy  in  Germany  come  forward 
with  a  characteristic  stamp.  The  kernel  of  his  philo- 
sophising is  purely  German.'  The  following  arc  some 
of  the  university  questions  that  Balthazar  Walter  took 
down  and  sent  to  Jacob  Bchmen  for  his  answer  :  '  What 
is  the  soul  of  the  man  in  its  innermost  essence,  and  how 
is  it  created,  soul  by  soul,  in  the  image  of  God  ?  Is  the 
soul  propagated  from  father  to  son  like  the  body  ?  or  is 
it  every  time  new  created  and  breathed  in  from  God  ? 
How  comes  original  sin  into  each  several  soul  ?  How 
does  the  soul  of  the  saint  feed  and  grow  upon  the  word  of 
God  ?  Whence  comes  the  deadly  contrariety  between 
the  flesh  and  the  spirit  ?  Whither  goes  the  soul  when  it 
at  death  departs  from  the  body  ?  In  what  does  its  rest, 
its  awakening,  and  its  glorification  consist  ?  Wliat  kind 
of  body  shall  the  glorified  body  be  ?  The  soul  and 
spirit  of  Christ,  what  are  they  ?  and  are  they  the  same 
as  ours  ?  What  and  where  is  Paradise  ?  '  Through  a 
hundred  and  fourteen  large  quarto  pages  Behmen's 
astonishing  answers  to  the  forty  questions  run  ;  after 
which  he  adds  this  :  '  Thus,  my  beloved  friend,  we  have 
set  down,  according  to  our  gifts,  a  round  answer  to  your 
questions,  and  wc  exhort  you  as  a  brother  not  to  despise 
us.  For  we  are  not  born  of  art,  but  of  simplicity.  We 
acknowledge  all  who  love  such  knowledge  as  our  brethren 
in  Christ,  with  whom  we  hope  to  rejoice  eternally  in 
the  heavenly  school.  For  our  best  knowledge  here 
is  but  in  part,  but  when  we  shall  attain  to  perfection, 

D 


50  JACOB  BEHMEN 

then  we   shall  see  what  God  is,  and  what  He  can  do. 
Amen.' 

A  Treatise  of  the  Incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God  comes 
next,  and  then  we  have  three  smaller  works  written  to 
clear  up  and  to  establish  several  difficult  and  disputed 
matters  in  it  and  in  some  of  his  former  works.  To  write 
on  the  Incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God  would  need,  says 
Behmen,  an  angel's  pen  ;  but  his  defence  is  that  his  is 
better  than  any  angel's  pen,  because  it  is  the  pen  of 
a  sinner's  love.  The  year  1621  saw  one  of  Behmen's 
most  original  and  most  powerful  books  finished, — the 
Signatura  Rerum.  In  this  so  illuminating  book  Behmen 
teaches  us  that  all  things  have  two  worlds  in  which  they 
live, — an  inward  world  and  an  outward.  All  created 
things  have  an  inner  and  an  invisible  essence,  and  an 
outer  and  a  visible  form.  And  the  outward  form  is 
always  more  or  less  the  key  to  the  inward  character. 
This  whole  world  that  we  see  around  us,  and  of  which 
we  ourselves  are  the  soul, — it  is  all  a  symbol,  a  '  signature,' 
of  an  invisible  world.  This  deep  principle  runs  through 
the  whole  of  creation.  The  Creator  went  upon  this 
principle  in  all  His  work ;  and  the  thoughtful  mind  can 
see  that  principle  coming  out  in  all  His  work, — in  plants, 
and  trees,  and  beasts. 

As  German  Boehme  never  cared  for  plants 
Until  it  happed,  a-walking  in  the  fields, 
He  noticed  all  at  once  tliat  plants  could  speak, 
Nay,  turned  with  loosened  tongue  to  talk  with  him. 
That  day  the  daisy  had  an  eye  indeed— 
Colloquized  with  the  cowslips  on  such  themes  ! 
We  find  them  extant  yet  in  Jacob's  prose. 

But,  best  of  all,  this  principle  comes  out  clearest  in 
the  speech,  behaviour,  features,  and  face  of  a  man. 
Every   day   men   are   signing   themselves   from   within. 


JACOB  BEHMEN  51 

Every  act  they  perform,  every  word  they  speak,  every 
wish  they  entertain, — it  all  comes  out  and  is  fixed  for 
ever  in  their  character,  and  even  in  their  appearance. 
'  Therefore,'  says  Behmen  in  the  beginning  of  his  book, 
'  the  greatest  understanding  lies  in  the  signature.  For 
by  the  external  form  of  all  creatures,  by  their  voice 
and  action,  as  well  as  by  their  instigation,  inclination, 
and  desire,  their  hidden  spirit  is  made  known.  For 
Nature  has  given  to  everything  its  own  language  accord- 
ing to  its  innermost  essence.  And  this  is  the  language 
of  Nature,  in  which  everything  continually  speaks, 
manifests,  and  declares  itself  for  what  it  is, — so  much  so, 
that  all  that  is  spoken  or  written  even  about  God,  how- 
ever true,  if  the  writer  or  speaker  has  not  the  Divine 
Nature  within  himself,  then  all  he  says  is  dumb  to  me  ; 
he  has  not  got  the  hammer  in  his  hand  that  can  strike 
my  bell.' 

The  Way  to  Christ  ^  was  Behmen's  next  book,  and  in 
the  four  precious  treatises  that  compose  that  book  our 
author  takes  an  altogether  new  departure.  In  the  Aurora, 
in  The  Three  Principles,  in  the  Forty  Questions,  and  in 
the  Signatura  Bcrum,  Jacob  Behmen  has  been  writing 
for  philosophers  and  theologians.  Or,  if  in  all  these 
works  he  has  been  writing  for  a  memorial  to  himself  in 
the  first  place, — even  then,  it  has  been  for  himself  on  the 
philosophical  and  theological  side  of  his  own  mind. 
But  in  The  Way  to  Christ  he  writes  for  himself  under 
that  character  which,  once  taken  up  by  Jacob  Behmen, 
is   never  for   one   day  laid   down.     Behmen's   favourite 

^  The  IVay  to  Christ  has  been  published  recently  by  J.  M.  Watkins. 
The  Signature  of  All  Things  is  included  in  Everyman's  Library  (Dent), 
and  Mr.  George  Allen  has  undertaken  a  complete  edition  of  Behmen's 
works,  of  which  The  Threefold  Life,  TIic  Three  Principles  and  The  Forty 
Questions  have  already  appeared. 


52  JACOB  BEHMEN 

Scripture,  after  our  Lord's  promise  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  them  that  ask  for  Him,  was  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal 
Son.  In  all  his  books  Behmen  is  that  son,  covered  with 
wounds  and  bruises  and  putrifying  sores,  but  at  last 
beginning  to  come  to  himself  and  to  return  to  his  Father. 
The  Way  to  Christ  is  a  production  of  the  very  greatest 
depth  and  strength,  but  it  is  the  depth  and  the  strength 
of  the  heart  and  the  conscience  rather  than  the  depth 
and  the  strength  of  the  understanding  and  the  imagina- 
tion. This  nobly  evangelical  book  is  made  up  of  four 
tracts,  entitled  respectively.  Of  True  Repentance,  Of 
True  Resignation,  Of  Regeneration,  and  Of  the  Super- 
sensual  Life.  And  a  deep  vein  of  autobiographic  life 
and  interest  runs  through  the  four  tracts  and  binds 
them  into  a  quick  unity.  '  A  soldier,'  says  Behmen, 
'  who  has  been  in  the  wars  can  best  tell  another  soldier 
how  to  fight.'  And  neither  Augustine  nor  Luther  nor 
Bunyan  carries  deeper  wounds,  or  broader  scars,  nor 
tells  a  nobler  story  in  any  of  their  autobiographic  and 
soldierly  books  than  Behmen  does  in  his  Way  to  Christ. 
At  the  commencement  of  The  True  Repentance  he  pro- 
mises us  that  he  will  write  of  a  process  or  way  on  which 
he  himself  has  gone.  '  The  author  herewith  giveth  thee 
the  best  Jewel  that  he  hath.'  And  a  true  jewel  it  is, 
as  the  present  speaker  will  testify.  If  The  True  Repent- 
ance has  a  fault  at  all  it  is  the  fault  of  Samuel  Rutherford's 
Letters.  For  the  taste  of  some  of  his  readers  Behmen, 
like  Rutherford,  draws  rather  too  much  on  the  language 
and  the  figures  of  the  married  life  in  setting  forth  the 
love  of  Christ  to  the  espoused  soul,  and  the  love  of  the 
espoused  soul  to  Christ.  But  with  that,  and  with  all 
its  other  drawbacks,  The  True  Repentance  is  such  a 
treatise  that,  once  discovered  by  the  projDcr  reader,  it 
will  be  the  happy  discoverer's  constant  companion  all 


JACOB  BEHMEN  53 

his  earthly  and  penitential  days.  As  the  English  reader 
is  carried  on  through  the  fourth  tract,  The  Suyersensual 
Life,  he  experiences  a  new  and  an  increasing  sense  of 
case  and  pleasure,  combined  Avith  a  mj^stic  height  and 
depth  and  inwardness  all  but  new  to  him  even  in  Bchmen's 
books.  The  new  height  and  depth  and  inwardness  are 
all  Jacob  Behmen's  own ;  but  the  freedom  and  the 
ease  and  the  movement  and  the  melody  are  all  William 
Law's.  In  his  j)reparations  for  a  new  edition  of 
Behmen  in  English,  William  Law  had  re-translated  and 
paraphrased  The  Supersensuol  Life,  and  the  editor  of 
the  1781  edition  of  Behmen's  works  has  incorporated 
Law's  beautiful  rendering  of  that  tract  in  room  of  John 
Sparrow's  excellent  but  rather  too  antique  rendering. 
We  are  in  John  SparroAv's  everlasting  debt  for  the 
immense  labour  he  laid  out  on  Behmen,  as  well  as  for 
his  own  deep  piety  and  personal  worth.  But  it  was 
service  enough  and  honour  enough  for  Sparrow  to  have 
Englished  Jacob  Behmen  at  all  for  his  fellow-countr}^- 
men,  even  if  he  was  not  able  to  English  him  as  William 
Law  would  have  done.  But  take  Behmen  and  Law 
together,  as  they  meet  together  in  The  Supersensual 
Life,  and  not  A  Kcmpis  himself  comes  near  them  even 
in  his  own  proper  field,  or  in  his  immense  service  in  that 
field.  There  is  all  the  reality,  inwardness,  and  spirituality 
of  The  Imitation  in  TJie  Supersensual  Life,  together  with 
a  sweep  of  imagination,  and  a  grasp  of  understanding, 
as  well  as  with  both  a  sweetness  and  a  bitterness  of 
heart  that  even  A  Kempis  never  comes  near.  The 
Supersensual  Life  of  Jacob  Behmen,  in  the  English  of 
William  Law,  is  a  superb  piece  of  spiritual  work,  and  a 
treasure-house  of  masculine  English. 

A  Treatise  of  the  Four  Complexions,  or  A  Consolatory 
Lnstrucfion  for  a  Sad  and  Assaulted  Heart,  was  Behmen's 


54  JACOB  BEHMEN 

next  book.  The  four  complexions  are  the  four  tempera- 
ments— the  choleric,  the  sanguine,  the  phlegmatic,  and 
the  melancholy.  Behmen's  treatise  has  been  well  de- 
scribed by  Walton  as  containing  the  philosophy  of 
temptation  ;  and  by  Martensen  as  displaying  a  most 
profound  knowledge  of  the  human  heart.  Behmen  sets 
about  his  task  as  a  cluctor  dubitantium  in  a  masterly 
manner.  He  takes  in  hand  the  comfort  and  direction 
of  sin-distressed  souls  in  a  characteristically  deep,  inward, 
and  thoroughgoing  way.  The  book  is  full  of  Behmen's 
observation  of  men.  It  is  the  outcome  of  a  close  and 
long-continued  study  of  character  and  conduct.  Every 
page  of  The  Four  Complexions  gleams  with  a  keen  but 
tender  and  wistful  insight  into  our  poor  human  nature. 
As  his  customers  came  and  gave  their  orders  in  his  shop  ; 
as  his  neighbours  collected,  and  gossiped,  and  debated, 
and  quarrelled  around  his  shop  window  ;  as  his  minister 
fumed  and  raged  against  him  in  the  puljoit ;  as  the 
Council  of  Goerlitz  sat  and  swayed  ;  jjassed  sentence 
upon  him,  retracted  their  sentence,  and  again  gave  way 
under  the  pressure  of  their  minister,  and  pronounced 
another  sentence, — all  this  time  Behmen  was  having 
poor  human  nature,  to  all  its  joints  and  marrow,  and 
to  all  the  thoughts  and  instincts  of  its  heart,  laid  naked 
and  open  before  him,  both  in  other  men  and  in  himself. 
And  then,  as  always  with  Behmen,  all  this  observation  of 
men,  all  this  discovery  and  self-discovery,  ran  up  into 
philosophy,  into  theology,  into  personal  and  evangelical 
religion.  In  all  that  Behmen  better  and  better  saw  the 
original  plan,  constitution,  and  operation  of  human 
nature  ;  its  aboriginal  catastrophe  ;  its  weakness  and 
openness  to  all  evil ;  and  its  need  of  constant  care, 
protection,  instruction,  watchfulness,  and  Divine  help. 
Behmen  writes  on  all  the  four  temperaments  with  the 


JACOB  BEHMEN  55 

proloiindcst  insight,  and  with  the  fullest  sj^mpathy ; 
but  over  the  last  of  the  four  he  exclaims  :  '  O  hear  mc  ! 
for  I  know  well  myself  what  melancholy  is  !  I  also  have 
lodged  all  my  days  in  the  melancholy  inn  !  '  As  I  read 
that  light  and  elastic  book  published  some  years  ago, 
The  Life  and  Letters  of  Erasmus,  I  came  on  this  sentence, 
'  Erasmus,  like  all  men  of  real  genius,  had  a  light  and 
elastic  nature.'  When  I  read  that,  I  could  not  believe 
my  eyes.  I  had  been  used  to  think  of  light  and  elastic 
natures  as  being  the  antipodes  of  natures  of  real  genius. 
And  as  I  stopped  my  reading  for  a  little,  a  procession  of 
men  of  real  and  indisputable  genius  passed  before  me, 
who  had  all  lodged  with  Behmen  in  the  melancholy  inn. 
Till  I  remembered  that  far  deeper  and  far  truer  saying, 
that  '  simply  to  say  man  at  all  is  to  say  melancholy.' 
No  :  with  all  respect,  the  real  fact  is  surely  as  near  as 
possible  the  exact  opposite.  A  light,  elastic.  Erasmus- 
like nature,  is  the  exception  among  men  of  real  genius. 
At  any  rate,  Jacob  Behmen  was  the  exact  opjjosite  of 
Erasmus,  and  of  all  such  light  and  elastic  men.  Melan- 
choly was  Jacob  Behmen's  special  temperament  and 
peculiar  comj^lexion.  He  had  long  studied,  and 
watched,  and  wrestled  with,  and  prayed  over  that 
complexion  at  home.  And  thus  it  is,  no  doubt,  that  he 
is  so  full,  and  so  clear,  and  so  sure-footed,  and  so  im- 
pressive, and  so  full  of  fellow-feeling  in  his  treatment  of 
this  special  complexion.  Behmen's  greatest  disciple  has 
assimilated  his  master's  teaching  in  this  matter  of 
complexion  also,  and  has  given  it  out  again  in  his  own 
clear,  plain,  powerful,  classical  manner,  especially  in 
his  treatise  on  Christian  Regeneration.  Let  all  preachers 
and  pastors  who  would  master  the  rationale  of  tempta- 
tion, and  who  would  ground  their  directions  and  their 
comforts  to  their  people  in  the  nature  of  things,  as  well 


56  JACOB  BEHMEN 

as  in  the  word  of  God,  make  Jacob  Behmen  and  Wi]]iam 
Law  and  Prebendary  Clark  their  constant  study.  '  I 
write  for  no  other  purpose,'  says  Behmen,  '  than  that 
men  may  learn  how  to  know  themselves.  Seek  the  noble 
knowledge  of  thyself.  Seek  it  and  you  will  find  a 
heavenly  treasure  which  will  not  be  eaten  by  moths, 
and  which  no  thief  shall  ever  take  away.' 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  enter  on  the  thorny  thicket 
of  Jacob  Behmen's  polemical  and  apologetical  works. 
I  shall  not  even  load  your  mind  with  their  unhappy 
titles.  His  five  apologies  occupy  in  bulk  somewhere 
about  a  tenth  part  of  his  five  quarto  volumes.  And  full 
as  his  apologies  and  defences  are  of  autobiographic 
material,  as  well  as  of  valuable  expansions  and  explana- 
tions of  his  other  books,  yet  at  their  best  they  are  all 
controversial  and  combative  in  their  cast  and  com- 
plexion ;  and,  nobly  as  Behmen  has  written  on  the 
subject  of  controversy,  it  was  not  given  even  to  him, 
amid  all  the  misunderstandings,  misrepresentations, 
injuries,  and  insults  he  suffered  from,  always  to  write 
what  we  are  glad  and  proud  and  the  better  to  read. 

About  his  next  book  Behmen  thus  writes  :  '  Upon  the 
desire  of  some  high  persons  with  whom  I  did  converse  in 
the  Christmas  holidays,  I  have  written  a  pretty  large 
treatise  upon  Election,  in  which  I  have  done  my  best 
to  determine  that  subject  upon  the  deepest  grounds. 
And  I  hope  that  the  same  may  put  an  end  to  many  con- 
tentions and  controversies,  especially  of  some  points 
betwixt  the  Lutherans  and  Calvinists,  for  I  have  taken 
the  texts  of  Holy  Scripture  which  speak  of  God's  will 
to  harden  sinners,  and  then,  again,  of  His  unwillingness 
to  harden,  and  have  so  tuned  and  harmonised  them 
that  the  right  understanding  and  meaning  of  the  same 
may    be    seen.'     '  This    author,'    says    John    Sparrow, 


JACOB  BEHMEN  57 

'  disputes  not  at  all.  He  desires  only  to  confer  and 
offer  his  understanding  of  the  Scriptures  on  both  sides, 
answering  reason's  objections,  and  manifesting  the 
truth  for  conjoining,  uniting,  and  reconciling  of  all  parties 
in  love.'  And  that  he  has  not  been  wholly  unsuccessful 
we  may  believe  when  we  hear  one  of  Behmen's  ablest 
commentators  writing  of  his  Election  as  '  a  superlatively 
helpful  book,'  and  again,  as  a  '  profoundly  instructive 
treatise.'  The  workmanlike  way  in  which  Behmen  sets 
about  his  treatment  of  the  Election  of  Grace,  commonly 
called  Predestination,  will  be  seen  from  the  titles  of  some 
of  his  chapters.  Chap.  i.  What  the  One  Only  God  is. 
Chap.  ii.  Concerning  God's  Eternal  Speaking  Word. 
Chap.  V.  Of  the  Origin  of  Man.  Chap.  vi.  Of  the  Fall  of 
Man.  Chap.  viii.  Of  the  sayings  of  Scripture,  and  how 
they  oppose  one  another.  Chap.  ix.  Clearing  the  Right 
Understanding  of  such  Scriptures.  Chap.  xiii.  A  Con- 
clusion upon  all  those  Questions.  And  then,  true  to  his 
constant  manner,  as  if  wholly  dissatisfied  with  the 
result  of  all  his  labour  in  things  and  in  places  too  deep 
both  for  writer  and  reader,  he  gave  all  the  next  day 
after  he  had  finished  his  Election  to  an  A^ppendix  on 
Repentance,  in  order  to  making  his  own  and  his  reader's 
calling  and  election  sure.  And  it  may  safely  be  said 
that,  than  that  day's  work,  than  those  four  quarto 
pages,  not  Augustine,  not  Luther,  not  Bunyan,  not 
Baxter,  not  Shepard  has  ever  written  anything  of  more 
evangelical  depth,  and  strength,  and  passion,  and 
pathos.  It  is  truly  a  splendid  day's  work !  But  it 
might  not  have  been  jDOSsible  even  for  Behmen  to  perform 
that  day's  work  had  he  not  for  months  beforehand  been 
dealing  day  and  night  with  the  deepest  and  the  most 
heart-searching  things  both  of  God  and  man.  What 
a  man  was  Jacob  Behmen,  and  chosen  to  what  a  service  ! 


58  JACOB  BEHMEN 

At  work  all  that  day  in  his  solitary  stall,  and  then  all  the 
night  after  over  his  rush-light  writing  for  a  memorial 
to  himself  and  to  us  his  incomparable  Compendium  of 
Repetita?ice. 

In  a  letter  addressed  to  one  of  the  nobility  in  Silesia, 
and  dated  February  19,  1623,  Behmen  says  :  '  When 
you  have  leisure  to  study  I  shall  send  you  something 
still  more  deep,  for  I  have  written  this  whole  autumn 
and  winter  without  ceasing.'  And  if  he  had  written 
nothing  else  but  his  great  book  entitled  Mysterium 
Magnum  that  autumn  and  winter,  he  must  have  written 
night  and  day  and  done  nothing  else.  Even  in  size  the 
Mysterium  is  an  immense  piece  of  work.  In  the  English 
edition  it  occupies  the  whole  of  the  third  quarto  volume 
of  507  pages  ;  and  then  for  its  matter  it  is  a  still  more 
amazing  production.  To  say  that  the  Mysterium 
Magnum  is  a  mystical  and  allegorical  commentary  upon 
the  Book  of  Genesis  is  to  say  nothing.  Philo  himself  is 
a  tyro  and  a  timid  interpreter  beside  Jacob  Behmen. 
'  Which  things  are  an  allegory,'  says  the  Apostle,  after 
a  passing  reference  to  Sarah  and  Hagar  and  Isaac  and 
Ishmael ;  but  if  you  would  see  actually  every  syllable  of 
Genesis  allegorised,  spiritualised,  interpreted  of  Christ, 
and  of  the  New  Testament,  from  the  first  verse  of  its 
first  chapter  to  the  last  verse  of  its  last  chapter,  like 
the  nobleman  of  Silesia,  when  you  have  leisure,  read 
Behmen's  deep  Mysterium  Magnum.  I  would  recommend 
the  enterprising  and  unconquerable  student  to  make 
leisure  so  as  to  master  Behmen's  Preface  to  the  Mysterium 
Magnum  at  the  very  least.  And  if  he  does  that,  and  is 
not  drawn  on  from  that  to  be  a  student  of  Behmen  for 
the  rest  of  his  days,  then,  whatever  else  his  proper  field 
in  life  may  be,  it  is  not  mystical  or  philosophical  theology. 
It  is  a  long  step  both  in  time  and  in  thought  from  Behmen 


JACOB  BEHMEN  59 

to  Schopenhauer ;  but,  speaking  of  one  of  Schclhng's 
books,  Schopenhauer  saj^s  that  it  is  all  taken  from 
Jacob  Behmen's  Mysterium  Magnum ;  every  thought 
and  almost  every  word  of  Schelling's  work  leads 
Schopenhauer  to  think  of  Behmen.  '  When  I  read 
Behmen's  book,'  says  Schopenhauer,  '  I  cannot  withhold 
either  admiration  or  emotion.' 

At  his  far  too  early  death  Behmen  left  four  treatises 
behind  him  in  an  unfinished  condition.  The  Theoscopia, 
or  Divine  Vision,  is  but  a  fragment ;  but,  even  so,  the 
study  of  that  fragment  leads  us  to  believe  that  had 
Behmen  lived  to  the  ordinary  limit  of  human  life,  and 
had  his  mind  continued  to  grow  as  it  was  now  fast  grow- 
ing in  clearness,  in  concentration,  and  in  simplicity, 
Behmen  would  have  left  to  us  not  a  few  books  as  classical 
in  their  form  as  all  his  books  are  classical  in  their  sub- 
stance ;  in  their  originalitj'-,  in  their  truth,  in  their 
depth,  and  in  their  strength.  As  it  is,  the  unfinished, 
tlie  scarcely-begun,  Theoscopia  only  serves  to  show  the 
student  of  what  a  treasure  he  has  been  bereft  by  Behmen's 
too  early  death.  As  I  read  and  re-read  the  Theoscopia 
I  felt  the  full  truth  and  force  of  Hegel's  generous  words, 
that  German  philosophy  began  with  Behmen.  This  is 
both  German  and  Christian  philosophy,  I  said  to  myself 
as  I  revelled  in  the  Theoscopia.  Let  the  serious  student 
listen  to  the  titles  of  some  of  the  chapters  of  the  Theoscopia, 
and  then  let  him  say  what  he  would  not  have  given  to 
have  got  such  a  book  from  such  a  pen  in  its  completed 
shape  :  '  What  God  is,  and  how  we  men  shall  know  the 
Divine  Substance  by  the  Divine  Revelation.  Why  it 
sometimes  seems  as  if  there  were  no  God,  and  as  if  all 
things  went  in  the  world  by  chance.  Why  God,  who  is 
Love  itself,  permits  an  e^il  Avill  contrary  to  His  own. 
The  reason  and  the  profit,  why  evil  should   be  found 


60  JACOB  BEHMEN 

along  with  good.  Of  the  mind  of  man,  and  how  it  is  the 
image  of  God,  and  how  it  can  still  be  filled  with  God. 
Why  this  Temporal  Universe  is  created  ;  to  what  it  is 
profitable  ;  and  how  God  is  so  near  unto  all  things '  : 
and  so  on.  '  But  no  amount  of  quotation,'  says  Mrs. 
Penney,  that  very  able  student  of  Behmen,  lately 
deceased,  '  can  give  an  adequate  glimpse  of  the  light 
which  streams  from  the  Theoscopia  when  long  and 
patiently  studied.' 

Another  unfinished  fragment  that  Behmen's  readers 
seek  for  and  treasure  up  like  very  sand  of  gold  is  his  Holy 
Week.  This  little  work,  its  author  tells  us,  was  under- 
taken ujDon  the  entreaty  and  desire  of  some  loving  and 
good  friends  of  his  for  the  daily  exercise  of  true  religion 
in  their  hearts  and  in  the  little  church  of  their  families. 
The  following  is  Behmen's  method  of  prayer  for  Monday, 
which  is  the  only  day's  prayer  he  got  finished  before  his 
death  :  '  A  short  prayer  when  we  awake  early  and  before 
we  rise.  A  prayer  and  thanksgiving  after  we  are  risen. 
A  praj'^er  while  we  wash  and  dress.  A  prayer  when  we 
begin  to  work  at  our  calling.  A  f)rayer  at  noon.  A 
prayer  toward  evening.  A  prayer  when  we  undress. 
A  prayer  of  thanks  for  the  bitter  passion  and  dying  of 
Jesus  Christ.'  What  does  the  man  mean  ?  many  of 
his  contemporaries  who  came  upon  his  Holy  Week  would 
say.  What  does  the  madman  mean  ?  Would  he  have 
us  pray  all  day  ?  Would  he  have  us  pray  and  do  nothing 
else  ?  Yes ;  it  would  almost  seem  so.  For  in  his 
Supersensual  Life  the  Master  says  to  the  discijDle  who 
has  asked,  '  How  shall  I  be  able  to  live  aright  amid  all 
the  anxiety  and  tribulation  of  this  world  ?  '  :  'If  thou 
dost  once  every  hour  throw  thyself  by  faith  bej^ond  all 
creatures  into  the  abysmal  mercy  of  God,  into  the 
sufferings   of   Christ,    and   into   the   fellowship   of   His 


JACOB  BEHMEN  61 

intercession,  then  thou  shalt  receive  power  from  above 
to  rule  over  the  world,  and  death,  and  the  devil,  and 
hell  itself.'  And  again,  '  O  thou  of  little  courage,  if 
thy  will  could  but  break  itself  off  every  half-hour  from 
all  creatures,  and  plunge  itself  into  that  where  no 
creature  is  or  can  be,  presently  it  would  be  penetrated 
with  the  sjDlendour  of  the  Divine  glory,  and  would  taste 
a  SAveetness  no  tongue  can  express.  Then  thou  wouldst 
love  thy  cross  more  than  all  the  glory  and  all  the  goods 
of  this  world.'  The  author  had  begun  a  scries  of  reflec- 
tions and  meditations  on  the  Ten  Commandments  for 
devotional  use  on  Tuesday,  but  got  no  further  than  the 
Fifth.  Behmen  is  so  deep  and  so  original  in  his  purely 
philosophical,  theological,  and  speculative  books,  that 
in  many  places  we  can  only  stand  back  and  wonder  at 
the  man.  But  in  his  Holy  Week  Behmen  kneels  down 
beside  us.  Not  but  that  his  characteristic  depth  is 
present  in  his  prayers  also  ;  but  we  all  know  something 
of  the  nature,  the  manner,  and  the  blessedness  of 
prayer,  and  thus  it  is  that  we  are  so  much  more  at  home 
with  Behmen,  the  prodigal  son,  than  we  are  with  Behmen, 
the  theosophical  theologian.  When  Behmen  begins  to 
teach  us  to  pray,  and  when  the  lesson  comes  to  us  out 
of  his  own  closet,  then  we  are  able  to  sec  in  a  nearer 
light  something  of  the  originality,  the  greatness,  the 
strength,  and  the  true  and  genuine  piety  of  the  philo- 
sopher and  the  theologian.  When  Behmen's  philosophy 
and  theology  become  penitence,  prayer,  and  praise,  then 
by  their  fruits  we  know  how  good  his  philosophy  and  his 
theology  must  be,  away  down  in  their  deepest  and  most 
hidden  nature.  I  agree  with  Christopher  Walton  that 
those  prayers  are  full  of  unction  and  instruction,  and 
that  some  of  them  are  of  the  '  highest  magnetical  power  '  ; 
and  that,   as  rendered  into   modern  phraseology,   they 


62  JACOB  BEHMEN 

are  most  beautiful  devotional  compositions,  and  very 
models  of  all  that  a  divinely  illuminated  mind  would 
address  to  God  and  Christ.  For  myself,  immediately 
after  the  Psalms  of  David  I  put  Jacob  Behmen's  Holy 
Week  and  the  prayers  scattered  up  and  down  through  his 
True  Repentance,  and  beside  Behmen  I  put  Bishop 
Andrewes'  Private  Devotions.  I  have  discovered  no 
helps  to  my  own  devotional  life  for  a  moment  to  set 
beside  Behmen  and  Andrewes. 

A  Treatise  on  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper ;  A  Key 
to  the  Principal  Points  and  Expressions  in  the  Author^ s 
Writings ;  and  then  a  most  valuable  volume  of  letters — 
Epistolae  Theosophicae — complete  the  extraordinarily 
rich  bibliography  of  the  illuminated  and  blessed  Jacob 
Behmen. 

Though  there  is  a  great  deal  of  needless  and  wearisome 
repetition  in  Jacob  Behmen's  writings,  at  the  same 
time  there  is  scarcely  a  single  subject  in  the  whole  range 
of  theology  on  which  he  does  not  throw  a  new,  an  intense, 
and  a  brilliant  light.  '  It  is  only  natural,'  says  M.  Bou- 
troux  in  his  Studies  in  Philosophy,  '  that  Behmen's 
disciples  should  mainly  be  found  among  theologians.' 
In  his  absolutely  original  and  magnificent  doctrine  of 
God,  while  all  the  time  loyally  true  to  it,  Behmen  has 
confessedly  transcended  the  theology  of  both  the  Latin 
and  the  Reformed  Churches  ;  and,  absolutely  unlettered 
man  though  he  is,  has  taken  his  stand  at  the  very  head 
of  the  great  Greek  theologians.  The  Reformers  concen- 
trated their  criticism  upon  the  anthropology  and  soteri- 
ology  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  especially  upon  the 
discipline  and  worship  connected  therewith.  They  saw 
no  need  for  recasting  any  of  the  more  fundamental 
positions  of  pure  theology.  And  while  Jacob  Behmen, 
broadly  speaking,  accepts  as  his  own  confession  of  faith 


JACOB  BEHMEN  63 

all  that  Luther  and  Calvin  and  their  colleagues  taught 
on  sin  and  salvation,  on  the  corruption  and  guilt  of 
sinners,  and  on  the  redeeming  work  of  our  Lord,  he  rises 
far  above  the  greatest  and  best  of  his  teachers  in  his 
doctrine  of  the  Godhead.  Not  only  does  he  rise  far 
higher  in  that  doctrine  than  either  Rome  or  Geneva,  he 
rises  far  higher  and  sounds  far  deeper  than  either  Antioeh, 
or  Alexandria,  or  Nicomedia,  or  Nice.  On  this  profound 
point  Bishop  Martensen  has  an  excellent  appreciation 
of  Behmen.  After  what  I  have  taken  upon  me  to  say- 
about  Behmen,  the  learned  Bishop's  authoritative  passage 
must  be  quoted  : — '  If  we  compare  Behmen's  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,'  says  the  learned  and  evangelical  Bishop, 
'  with  that  which  is  contained  in  the  otherwise  so  admir- 
able Athanasian  Creed,  the  latter  but  displays  to  us  a 
most  abstruse  metaphysic  ;  a  God  for  mere  thought,  and 
in  whom  there  is  nothing  sympathetic  for  the  heart  of 
man.  Behmen,  on  the  contrary,  reveals  to  us  the  Living 
God,  the  God  of  Goodness,  the  Eternal  Love,  of  which 
there  is  absolutely  no  hint  whatever  in  the  hard  Athan- 
asian symbol.  By  this  attitude  of  his  to  the  affections 
of  the  human  heart,  Behmen's  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
is  in  close  coherence  with  the  Reformation,  and  Avith  its 
evangelical  churches.  .  .  .  Behmen  is  anxious  to  state  a 
conception  of  God  that  will  fill  the  hiatus  between  the 
theological  and  anthropological  sides  of  the  dogmatical 
development  which  was  bequeathed  by  the  Reformation  ; 
he  seeks  to  unite  the  theological  and  the  anthropological. 
.  .  .  From  careful  study  of  Behmen's  theology,'  continues 
Bishop  Martensen,  '  one  gains  a  jDrevailing  impression 
that  Behmen's  God  is,  in  His  inmost  Being,  most  kindred 
to  man,  even  as  man  in  his  inmost  being  is  still  kindred  to 
God.  And,  besides,  we  recognise  in  Behmen  throughout 
the  pulse-beat  of  a  believing  man,  who  is  in  all  his  books 


6i  JACOB  BEHMEN 

supremely  anxious  about  his  own  salvation  and  that  of 
his  fellow-men.'  Now,  it  is  just  this  super-confessional 
element  in  Behmcn,  both  on  his  speculative  and  on  his 
practical  side,  taken  along  with  the  immediate  and 
intensely  practical  bearing  of  all  his  speculations,  it  is 
just  this  that  is  Behmen's  true  and  genuine  distinction, 
his  shining  and  unshared  glory.  And  it  is  out  of  that 
supreme,  solitary,  and  wholly  untrodden  field  of  Behmen's 
super-confessional  theology  that  all  that  is  essential, 
characteristic,  distinctive,  and  fruitful  in  Behmen  really 
and  originally  springs.  The  distinctions  he  takes  within, 
and  around,  and  immediately  beneath  the  Godhead,  are 
of  themselves  full  of  the  noblest  light.  The  Divine 
Nature,  Eternal  Nature,  Temporal  Nature,  Human 
Nature,  when  evolved  out  of  one  another,  and  when 
related  to  one  another,  as  Behmen  sees  them  evolved  and 
related,  are  categories  of  the  clearest,  surest,  most  neces- 
sary, and  most  intensely  instructive  kind.  And  if  the 
height  and  the  depth,  the  massiveness,  the  stupendousness, 
and  the  grandeur,  as  well  as  the  sweetness  and  the  beauty 
and  the  warmth  and  the  fruitfulness  of  a  doctrine  of  God 
is  any  argument  or  evidence  of  its  truth,  then  Behmen's 
magnificent  doctrine  of  the  Godhead  is  surely  proved  to 
demonstration  and  delight.  God  is  the  Essence  of  all 
Essences  to  Behmen.  God  is  the  deepest  Ground,  the 
living  and  the  life-giving  Root  of  all  existence.  At  the 
same  time,  the  Divine  Nature  is  so  Divine  ;  It  is  so  high 
and  so  deep  ;  It  is  so  unlike  all  that  is  not  Itself  ;  It  is  so 
beyond  and  above  all  language,  and  all  thought,  and  all 
imagination  of  man  or  angel,  that  universe  after  universe 
have  had  to  come  into  existence,  and  have  had  to  be 
filled,  each  successive  universe  after  its  own  Idnd,  with 
all  the  fulness  of  God,  before  that  universe  of  which  we 
form  a  part,  and  to  which  our  utmost  imagination  is 


JACOB  BEHMEN  65 

confined,  could  have  come  into  existence,  and  into  recog- 
nition of  itself.  Behmen's  Eternal  Nature  must  never 
be  taken  for  the  Eternal  God.  The  Divine  Nature,  the 
Eternal  Godhead,  exists  in  the  Father,  in  the  Son,  and  in 
the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  then,  after  the  Eternal  Generation 
of  the  Sow,  and  the  Eternal  Procession  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
there  comes  up  in  order  of  existence  Eternal  Nature. 
Eternal  Nature  is  not  the  Divine  Nature,  but  it  is  as  near 
to  the  Divine  Nature  in  its  qualities  and  in  its  powers  as 
any  created  thing  can  ever  by  any  possibility  be.  Now, 
if  we  are  still  to  follow  Behmen,  we  must  not  let  ourselves 
indolently  think  of  the  production  of  Eternal  Nature  as 
a  divine  act  done  and  completed  in  any  past  either  of 
time  or  of  eternity.  There  is  neither  past  nor  future 
where  we  are  now  walking  with  Behmen.  There  is  only 
an  everlasting  present  where  he  is  now  leading  us.  For, 
as  God  the  Father  generates  the  Son  eternally  and  con- 
tinually ;  and  as  the  Holy  Ghost  proceeds  from  the  Father 
and  the  Son  eternally  and  continually,  so  God  the  Word 
eternally  and  continually  says,  '  Let  this  Beginning  of  all 
things  be,  and  let  it  continue  to  be.'  And,  as  He  speaks, 
His  Word  awakens  the  ever-dawning  morning  of  the  ever 
new-created  day.  And  He  beholds  Eternal  Nature  con- 
tinually rising  up  before  Him,  and  He  pronounces  it  very 
good.  The  Creator  so  transcends  the  creation,  and, 
especially,  that  late  and  remote  creation  of  which  we  are 
a  part,  that  as  the  Creator's  first  step  out  of  Himself, 
and  as  a  step  towards  our  creation,  is  His  creation,  genera- 
tion, or  other  production  of  a  nature  or  universe  that 
shall  be  capable  of  receiving  immediately  into  itself  all 
that  of  the  Creator  that  He  has  purposed  to  reveal  and  to 
communicate  to  creatures, — a  nature  or  universe  which 
shall  at  the  same  time  be  itself  the  beginning  of  creation, 
and  the  source,  spring,  and  quarry  out  of  which  all  that 

E 


66  JACOB  BEHMEN 

shall    afterwards    come    can    be    constructed.     Eternal 
Nature  is  thus  the  great  storehouse  and  workshop  in 
which  all  the  created  essences,  elements,  principles,  and 
potentialities  of  all  possible  worlds  are  laid  up.     Here 
is  the  great  treasury  and  laboratory  into  which  the  Filial 
Word  enters,  when  by  Him  God  creates,  sustains,  and 
perfects  the  worlds,  universe  after  universe.     Here,  says 
Behmen,   is   the  great  and  universal   treasury   of   that 
heavenly  clay  of  which  all  things,  even  to  angels  and  men, 
are  made  ;    and  here  is  the  eternal  turning- wheel  with 
which    they    are    all    framed    and    fashioned.     Eternal 
Nature  is  an  invisible  essence,  and  it  is  the  essential 
ground  out  of  which  all  the  visible  and  invisible  worlds 
are  made.     For  the  things  which  are  seen  were  not  made 
of   things   which  do   appear.     In   that  radiant   original 
universe  also  all  the  thoughts  of  God  which  were  to 
usward  from  everlasting,  all  the  Divine  ideas,  patterns, 
and  plans  of  things,  are  laid  open,  displayed,  copied  out 
and    sealed    up   for   future    worlds    to   see    carried    out. 
'  Through  this  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  or  Eternal  Nature,' 
says  William  Law,  in  his  Appeal  to  all  that  Doubt,  '  is  the 
invisible  God  eternally  breaking  forth  and  manifesting 
Himself   in   a  boundless   height   and   depth   of   blissful 
wonders,    opening   and    displaying   Himself   to    all   His 
heavenly  creatures  in  an  infinite  variety  and  an  endless 
multiplicity  of  His  powers,  beauties,  joys,  and  glories. 
So  that  all  the  inhabitants  of  heaven  are  for  ever  knowing, 
seeing,  hearing,  feeling,  and  variously  enjoying  all  that  is 
great,  amiable,  infinite,  and  gracious  in  the  Divine  Nature.' 
And  again,  in  his  Way  to  Divine  Knowledge  :    '  Out  of 
this  transcendent  Eternal  Nature,  which  is  as  universal 
and  immense  as  the  Godhead  itself,  do  all  the  highest 
beings,  cherubims  and  seraphims,  all  the  hosts  of  angels, 
and  all  intelligent  spirits,  receive  their  birth,  existence, 


JACOB  BEHMEN  67 

substance,  and  form.  And  they  arc  one  and  united  in 
one,  God  in  them,  and  they  in  God,  according  to  the 
prayer  of  Christ  for  His  disciples,  that  they,  and  He, 
and  His  Holy  Father  might  be  united  in  one.'  A  little 
philosophy,  especially  when  the  philosopher  does  not 
yet  know  the  plague  of  his  own  heart,  tends,  indeed,  to 
doubt  and  unbelief  in  the  word  of  God  and  in  the  work  of 
Christ.  But  the  philosophy  of  Behmen  and  Law  will 
deepen  the  mind  and  subdue  the  heart  of  the  student  till 
he  is  made  a  prodigal  son,  a  humble  believer,  and  a  pro- 
found philosopher,  both  in  nature  and  in  grace,  like  his 
profound  masters, 

Behmen's  teaching  on  human  nature,  his  doctrine  of 
the  heart  of  man,  and  of  the  image  of  God  in  the  heart  of 
man,  has  a  greatness  about  it  that  marks  it  off  as  being 
peculiarly  Behmen's  own  doctrine.  He  agrees  with 
the  catechisms  and  the  creeds  in  their  teaching  that  the 
heart  of  man  was  at  first  like  the  heart  of  God  in  know- 
ledge, righteousness,  and  true  holiness.  But  Behmen  is 
above  and  beyond  the  catechisms  in  this  also,  in  the  way 
that  he  sees  the  heart  of  man  still  opening  in  upon  the 
Divine  Nature,  as  also  upon  Eternal  and  Temporal 
Nature,  somewhat  as  the  heart  of  God  opens  out  on  all 
that  He  has  made.  On  every  page  of  his,  wherever  j^ou 
happen  to  open  him,  Behmen  is  found  teaching  that 
God  and  Christ,  heaven  and  hell,  hfe  and  death,  are  in 
every  several  human  heart.  Heaven  and  all  that  it 
contains  is  every  day  either  being  quenched  and  killed 
in  every  human  heart,  or  it  is  being  anew  generated,  re- 
kindled, and  accepted  there  ;  and  in  like  manner  hell. 
'  Yea,'  he  is  bold  to  exclaim,  '  God  Himself  is  so  near  thee 
that  the  geniture  of  the  Holy  Trinity  is  continually  being 
wrought  in  thy  heart.  Yea,  all  the  Three  Persons  are 
generated  for  thee  in  thy  heart.'     And,  again  :    '  God  is 


68  JACOB  BEHMEN 

in  thy  dark  heart.  Knock,  and  He  shall  come  out  within 
thee  into  the  light.  The  Holy  Ghost  holds  the  key  of 
thy  dark  heart.  Ask,  and  He  shall  be  given  to  thee  with- 
in thee.  Do  not  let  any  sophister  teach  thee  that  thy 
God  is  far  aloft  from  thee  as  the  stars  are.  Only  offer  at 
this  moment  to  God  thine  heart,  and  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God,  will  be  born  and  formed  within  thee.  And  then 
thou  art  His  brother.  His  flesh,  and  His  spirit.  Thou 
also  art  a  child  of  His  Father.  God  is  in  thee.  Power, 
might,  majesty,  heaven,  paradise,  elements,  stars,  the 
whole  earth — all  is  thine.  Thou  art  in  Christ  over 
hell,  and  all  that  it  contains.'  '  Behmen's  speculation,' 
Martensen  is  always  reminding  us,  '  streams  forth  from 
the  deepest  practical  inspiration.  His  speculations  are 
all  saturated  with  a  constant  reference  to  salvation. 
His  whole  metaphysic  is  pervaded  by  practical  applica- 
tions.' And  conspicuously,  so  we  may  here  point  out, 
is  his  metaphysic  of  God  and  of  the  heart  of  man.  The 
immanence  of  God,  as  theologians  and  philosophers  call 
it ;  the  indwelling  of  God,  as  the  jDsalmists  and  the 
apostles  and  the  saints  call  it ;  the  Divine  Word  lighten- 
ing every  man  that  comes  into  the  world,  as  John  has  it, — 
of  the  practical  and  personal  bearings  of  all  that  Beh- 
men's every  book  is  full.  Dost  thou  not  see  it  and  feel 
it?  he  continually  calls  to  his  readers.  Heaven,  be  sure, 
is  in  every  holy  man,  and  hell  in  every  bad  man.  When 
thou  dost  work  together  with  God,  then  thou  art  in 
heaven,  and  thy  soul  dwells  in  God.  In  like  manner, 
also,  thou  art  in  hell  and  among  the  devils  when  thou 
art  in  any  envy,  malice,  anger,  or  ill-will.  Thou  needest 
not  to  ask  where  is  heaven  or  where  is  hell.  Both  are 
within  thee,  even  in  thy  heart.  Now,  then,  when  thou 
prayest,  pray  in  that  heaven  that  is  within  thee,  and  there 
the  Holy  Ghost  shall  meet  with  thee  and  will  help  thee, 


JACOB  BEHMEN  69 

and  thy  soul  shall  be  the  whole  of  heaven  within  thee. 
It  is  a  fundamental  doctrine  of  Behmen's  that  the  fall 
would  have  been  immediate  and  eternal  death  to  Adam 
and  Eve  had  not  the  Divine  Word,  the  Seed  of  the  woman, 
entered  their  hearts,  and  kept  a  footing  in  their  hearts, 
and  in  the  hearts  of  all  their  children,  against  the  ful- 
ness of  time  when  He  would  take  our  flesh  and  work  out 
our  redemption.  And  thus  it  is  that  Behmen  appeals  to 
all  his  readers,  that  if  they  will  only  go  down  deep  enough 
into  their  own  hearts — then,  there,  down  there,  deeper 
than  indwelling  sin,  deeper  than  original  sin,  deep  down 
and  seated  in  the  very  substance  and  centre  of  their 
souls — they  will  come  upon  secret  and  unexpected  seeds 
of  the  Divine  Life.  Seeds,  blades,  buddings,  and  new 
beginnings  of  the  very  life  of  God  the  Son,  in  their  deepest 
souls.  Secret  and  small,  Behmen  exclaims,  as  those  seeds 
of  Eden  are,  despise  them  not ;  destroy  them  not,  for  a 
blessing  for  thee  is  in  them.  Water  those  secret  seeds, 
sun  them,  dig  about  them,  and  they  will  grow  up  in  you 
also.  The  Divine  Life  is  in  you,  quench  it  not,  for  it  is 
of  God.  Nay,  it  is  God  Himself  in  you.  It  depends 
upon  yourself  whether  or  no  that  which  is  at  this  moment 
the  smallest  of  all  seeds  is  yet  to  become  in  you  the 
greatest  and  the  most  fruitful  of  all  trees. 

'  Man  never  knows  how  anthropomorphic  he  is,'  is  a 
characteristic  saying  of  a  fellow-countryman  of  Beh- 
men's. And  Behmen's  super-confessional  and  almost 
super-scriptural  treatment  of  that  frequent  scriptural 
anthropomorphism, — '  unavoidable  and  yet  intolerable,' 
— the  wrath  of  God,  must  be  left  by  me  in  Behmen's 
own  bold  pages.  Strong  meat  belongeth  to  them  that 
are  of  full  age,  even  those  who  by  reason  of  use  have 
their  senses  exercised  to  discern  both  good  and  evil. 
Behmen's   philosophical,    theological,    and   experimental 


70  JACOB  BEHMEN 

doctrine  of  sin  also,  with  one  example,  must  be  wholly 
passed  by.  '  If  all  trees  were  clerks,'  he  exclaims  in 
one  place,  '  and  all  their  branches  pens,  and  all  the  hills 
books,  and  all  the  waters  ink,  yet  all  Avould  not  sufficiently 
declare  the  evil  that  sin  hath  done.  For  sin  has  made 
this  house  of  heavenly  light  to  be  a  den  of  darkness  ;  this 
house  of  joy  to  be  a  house  of  mourning,  lamentation,  and 
woe  ;  this  house  of  all  refreshment  to  be  full  of  hunger 
and  thirst ;  this  abode  of  love  to  be  a  prison  of  enmity 
and  ill-will ;  this  seat  of  meekness  to  be  the  haunt  of 
pride  and  rage  and  malice.  For  laughter  sin  has  brought 
horror ;  for  munificence,  beggary ;  and  for  heaven, 
hell.  Oh,  thou  miserable  man,  turn  convert.  For  the 
Father  stretches  out  both  His  hands  to  thee.  Do  but 
turn  to  Him  and  He  will  receive  and  embrace  thee  in 
His  love.'  It  was  the  sin  and  misery  of  this  world  that 
first  made  Jacob  Bchmen  a  philosopher,  and  it  was  the 
sinfulness  of  his  own  heart  that  at  last  made  him  a  saint. 
Of  Behmcn's  full  doctrine  and  practice  of  prayer  also  ;  his 
fine  and  fruitful  treatment  of  what  he  always  calls  '  the 
process  of  Christ  '  ;  and,  intimately  connected  with 
that,  his  still  super-confessional  treatment  of  imputa- 
tion,— of  all  that,  and  much  more  like  that,  I  cannot 
now  attempt  to  speak.  Nor  yet  of  his  superb  teaching 
on  love.  '  Throw  out  thy  heart  upon  all  men,'  he  now 
commands  and  now  beseeches  us.  '  Throw  open  and 
throw  out  thy  heart.  For  unless  thou  dost  exercise  thy 
heart,  and  the  love  of  thy  heart,  upon  every  man  in  the 
world,  thy  self-love,  thy  pride,  thy  contempt,  thy  envy, 
thy  distaste,  thy  dislike  will  still  have  dominion  over  thee. 
The  Divine  Nature  will  be  quenched  and  extinguished 
in  thee,  till  nothing  but  self  and  hell  is  left  to  thee.  In 
the  name  and  in  the  strength  of  God,  love  all  men.  Love 
thy  neighbour  as  thyself,  and  do  to  thy  neighbour  as  thou 


JACOB  BEHMEN  71 

doest  to  thyself.     And  do  it  now.     For  now  is  the  accepted 
time  ;   and  now  is  the  day  of  salvation  !  ' 

Jacob  Behmen  died  in  his  fiftieth  year.  He  was  libelled 
and  maligned,  harassed  and  hunted  to  death  by  a  world 
that  was  not  worthy  of  such  a  gift  of  God.  A  sudden  and 
severe  sickness  came  upon  Behmen  till  he  sank  in  death 
with  his  Aurora  and  his  Holy  Week  and  his  Divine  Vision 
all  lying  still  unfinished  at  his  bedside.  '  Open  the  door 
and  let  in  more  of  that  music,'  the  dying  man  said  to  his 
weeping  son.  Behmen  was  already  hearing  the  harpers 
harping  with  their  harps.  He  was  already  taking  his 
part  in  the  song  they  sing  in  heaven  to  Him  who  loved 
them,  and  washed  them  from  their  sins  in  His  own  blood. 
'  And  now,'  said  the  prodigal  son,  the  blessed  Behmen,  '  I 
go  to-day  to  be  with  my  Redeemer  and  my  King  in 
Paradise,'  and  so  died. 


BISHOP    ANDREWES 

Lancelot  Andrewes  was  born  the  son  of  a  seafaring 
man  at  Allhallows,  Barking,  London,  in  1555,  and  he  died 
Bishop  of  Winchester  at  Southwark  in  1626.  Andrewes 
was  born  one  year  after  Hooker,  four  years  before  Isaac 
Casaubon  and  Robert  Bruce,  six  years  before  Bacon, 
nine  years  before  Shakespeare,  eleven  years  before 
James  the  First,  and  eighteen  years  before  Laud  and 
Donne.  Lancelot  Andrewes  hves  to  us  and  shines  to  us 
to  this  day  in  his  Private  Devotions.  All  our  interest  in 
Andrewes  is  centred  in  his  Private  Devotions.  Andrewes 
was  a  great  scholar  and  a  great  patron  of  poor  scholars, 
he  was  the  most  popular  preacher  of  his  day,  in  his 
hospitality  he  was  the  pattern  of  an  apostolic  bishop, 
and  he  was  a  great  favourite  with  his  king ;  but  all  that 
would  have  been  forgotten  long  ago  had  it  not  been 
for  his  one  incomparable  and  priceless  book,  the  Private 
Devotions.  We  carry  Andrewes's  Private  Devotions  in  our 
mind  as  we  read  of  his  birth,  of  his  education,  of  his 
talents,  of  his  industry,  of  his  rise  in  life,  and  of  all  his 
after-career.  Our  interest  in  Andrewes's  scholarship  and 
wide  reading,  in  his  churchmanship  and  in  his  statesman- 
ship, in  his  single  life,  in  his  friends  and  in  his  opponents, 
in  his  great  opportunities  and  in  his  great  temptations 
both  as  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ  and  as  a  privy 
councillor  of  King  James, — our  interest  in  all  that  is 
awakened  and  is  intensely  quickened  as  we  study,  and 


74  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

much  more  as  we  ourselves  emjjloy,  his  Private  Devotions. 
With  that  ilhiminating  book  open  before  us  we  search 
the  histories  and  the  biographies  of  his  time  ;  the  home 
and  the  foreign  pohtics  of  his  time  ;  the  State  papers, 
the  Church  controversies,  and  not  least  the  Court 
scandals  and  the  criminal  reports  of  his  time,  with  the 
keenest  interest  and  the  most  solicitous  anxiety.  '  I 
am  wonderful  curious,'  says  Montaigne,  '  to  discover  and 
know  the  mind,  the  soul,  the  genuine  disposition,  and  the 
natural  judgment  of  my  authors  ;  but  much  more  what 
they  do  in  their  chambers  and  in  their  closets  than 
what  they  are  in  the  senate  and  in  the  market-place.' 
And  that  is  just  what  we  discover  and  know  of  our 
author  in  his  Private  Devotions.  We  have  preserved  to 
us  in  that  all-revealing  book  what  Andrewes  was  in  his 
chamber  and  in  his  closet  as  we  have  no  other  author 
preserved  to  us  in  any  other  book  that  I  know.  To 
Andrewes  more  than  to  any  other  man  that  I  know  has 
this  assurance  of  our  Saviour  been  to  the  letter  fulfilled, — 
But  thou,  when  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet,  and 
when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to  thy  Father  which 
is  in  secret ;  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret  shall 
reward  thee  openly.  For,  what  Andrewes  prayed  for 
in  his  closet,  and  how  he  prayed  for  it,  of  that  all  the 
world  now  openly  knows  and  openly  has  the  reward. 

As  soon  as  young  Andrewes  had  a  book  put  into  his 
hands  he  began  to  show  a  quite  extraordinary  aptitude 
for  the  acquisition  of  languages.  From  his  tender  years, 
Isaacson,  his  secretary  and  biographer,  tells  us,  Andrewes 
was  totally  addicted  to  the  study  of  languages  ;  and  in 
his  youth  there  appeared  in  him  such  aptness  to  learn, 
answerable  to  his  endeavours,  that  his  first  two  school- 
masters contended  who  should  have  the  honour  of  his 
breeding.     By  his  extraordinary  industry  and  admirable 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  75 

capacity  he  soon  outstripped  all  his  school-fellows, 
having  become  an  excellent  Grecian  and  Hebrician. 
When  he  came  home  to  London  from  Cambridge  for  his 
Easter  holiday,  he  was  wont  to  bespeak  a  tutor  for  those 
vacant  weeks,  till  he  went  back  to  his  college  after  a 
month's  absence  a  much  better  scholar  than  he  had 
been  when  he  left  it.  Isaacson  had  often  heard  the 
reverend  and  Avorthy  prelate  say  that  when  he  was  a 
young  scholar  at  the  University,  and  so  all  his  time 
onwards,  he  never  loved  or  used  any  games  or  ordinary 
recreation,  either  within  doors,  as  cards,  dice,  tables, 
chess,  or  the  like  ;  or  abroad,  as  butts,  quoits,  bowls,  or 
any  such  ;  but  his  ordinary  exercise  and  recreation  was 
walking  either  alone  by  himself,  or  with  some  selected 
companion,  with  whom  he  might  confer,  argue,  and 
recount  their  studies.  He  would  often  profess  that  to 
observe  the  grass,  herbs,  corn,  trees,  cattle,  earth,  waters, 
heavens,  any  of  the  creatures,  and  to  contemplate  their 
natures,  orders,  qualities,  virtues,  uses,  and  such  like, 
was  ever  to  him  the  greatest  mirth,  content,  and  recreation 
that  could  be  :  and  this  he  held  to  his  dying  day.  '  He 
accounted  all  that  time  lost  that  he  spent  not  in  his 
studie,'  says  Bishop  Buckeridge,  '  wherein  in  learning  he 
outstript  all  his  equals,  and  his  indefatigable  industry 
had  almost  outstript  himself  :  he  studied  so  hard  when 
others  played,  that  if  his  parents  and  masters  had  not 
forced  him  to  play  with  them  also,  all  the  play  had  been 
marred.'  And  then  Fuller  follows  Isaacson  and  Bucke- 
ridge with  this, — that  '  the  world  wanted  learning  to 
know  how  learned  this  man  was ;  so  skilled  in  all 
(especially  Oriental)  languages,  that  some  conceive  he 
might,  if  then  living,  almost  have  served  as  an  inter- 
preter -  general  at  the  confusion  of  tongues.'  '  His 
admirable    knowledge    in    the    learned    tongues,'    adds 


76  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

Buckeridge,  '  Latine,  Greek,  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  Syriack, 
Arabick,  besides  other  modern  tongues  to  the  number 
of  fifteen,  as  I  am  informed,  was  such,  and  so  rare,  that 
he  may  well  be  ranked  to  be  in  the  first  place,  to  be  one 
of  the  rarest  linguists  in  Christendom.' 

This  is  to  be  an  appreciation  of  Andrewes  at  his  true 
price,  and  our  true  picture  must  show  the  shadows  as 
well  as  the  sunlights  ;  Cromwell's  warts  as  well  as  his 
high  forehead  and  his  shining  eyes. 

With  his  elevation  to  the  bench  of  bishops  that  sad 
drop  and  deterioration  of  Andrewes's  character  began 
which  cannot  be  kept  hid  from  any  unprejudiced  reader 
of  his  life,  and  which  stands  written  out  in  a  sea  of  tears 
the  bitterness  of  which  every  reader  of  sensibility  must 
surely  taste  on  every  page  of  his  penitential  Devotions. 
A  more  servile  and  short-sighted  body  of  men  than  the 
bench  of  bishops  under  James  the  First  never  set  a  royal 
house  on  the  road  to  ruin  ;  and  with  all  his  saintliness,  and 
with  all  his  unworldliness,  Lancelot  Andrewes  at  last 
consented  to  sit  down  among  them.  George  Herbert 
writes  of  the  same  Court :  '  I  now  look  back  upon  my 
aspiring  thoughts,  and  think  myself  more  happy  than  if 
I  had  attained  what  then  I  so  ambitiously  thirsted  for. 
And  I  now  can  behold  the  court  with  an  impartial  eye,  and 
see  plainly  that  it  is  made  up  of  fraud,  and  titles,  and 
flattery,  and  many  other  such  empty,  imaginary,  painted 
pleasures.'  '  A  main  cause  of  all  the  misery  and  mischief 
in  our  land  is  the  fearf ullest  of  flattery  of  our  prelates  and 
clergy,'  says  one  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  Mead's  correspond- 
ents in  1623.  It  is  only  those  who  truly  love  Andrewes, — 
and  as  Buckeridge  who  had  known  him  for  thirty  years 
says,  '  I  loved  him,  but  yet  my  love  doth  not  blind  or 
outsway  my  judgment,' — it  is  only  those,  I  say,  who 
have  long  known  and   who  truly  love  Andrewes,   and 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  77 

who  have  his  Devotions  day  and  night  in  their  hands 
till  they  come  to  owe  him  their  own  souls,  it  is  only 
they  who  will  feel  the  full  pain  and  shame  of  Lancelot 
Andrewes's  position  as  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  at 
the  same  time  a  privy  councillor  and  a  Court  favourite 
of  James  the  First.  The  truth  is,  no  man  could  remain 
a  man  at  all,  and  much  less  a  man  of  Christian  honour 
and  uncompromised  integrity,  at  the  Court  and  in  the 
favour  of  James.  What  a  system  of  things  that  was 
which  placed  the  Church  of  Christ  and  her  chief  ministers, 
as  well  as  the  whole  people  of  a  great  and  growing  nation, 
under  the  heel  of  a  man  like  James  Stuart  !  The  strongest 
men  bent  and  broke  under  the  dreadful  incubus  of  that 
abominable  system.  It  was  only  one  outstanding  man 
here  and  another  outstanding  man  there  who  could 
remain  true  and  upright  and  honourable  men  under  that 
abominable  system.  It  was  only  a  statesman  like  Bristol, 
and  a  judge  like  Coke,  and  a  bishop  like  Abbot,  and  a 
minister  like  Robert  Bruce  who  could  live  through  such 
an  atmosphere.  The  best  and  the  most  blameless  men 
became  compromised,  corrupted,  and  demoralised.  And 
that  a  man  of  Andrewes's  goodness  and  beauty  of  char- 
acter was  so  compromised,  corrupted,  and  demoralised  is 
surely  of  itself  sufficient  condemnation  of  James  and  of 
the  life  of  his  Court,  and  of  that  whole  abominable  system 
of  things  that  had  grafted  the  sword  and  the  sceptre  of 
England  ujDon  the  crook  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  then  had  put 
all  three  into  the  hand  of  James  the  First.  The  time  had 
been  when  you  would  have  seen  Lancelot  Andrewes 
rather  have  his  right  hand  cut  off  than  that  it  should 
countersign  any  king's  command  in  such  an  infamous 
affair  as  the  divorce  case  of  the  Earl  and  Countess  of 
Essex.  But  ten  years  at  a  Stuart  Court  had  brought 
even  Lancelot  Andrewes  down  to  that.     If  you  cannot 


78  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

so  much  as  touch  pitch  without  being  defiled,  how  could 
you  expect  to  wade  about  in  a  pit  of  pitch  for  half  a  life- 
time and  come  out  clean  ?  The  Essex  case  is  much  too 
loathsome  to  be  more  than  merely  mentioned  here,  and 
I  do  not  wonder  that  Mr.  Gardmer  protests  that  nothing 
short  of  direct  evidence  will  suffice  to  convince  him  that 
Lancelot  Andrewes  kncAv  what  he  was  doing  Avhen  he 
took  the  side  he  did  take  in  the  Essex  case.  Mr.  Gardiner 
has  had  all  the  evidence  before  him,  and  he  is  both  an 
able  and  a  just  judge  ;  but,  much  as  I  would  like  to  see 
Andrewes  cleared,  or  even  given  the  benefit  of  a  doubt 
in  the  Essex  case,  I  despair  of  ever  having  the  relief  of 
mind  of  seeing  that  done.  I  have  read  far  too  much 
direct  evidence  against  Andrewes  for  m}^  own  full  faith 
and  perfect  pride  in  Andrewes.  The  successive  state 
trials  connected  with  that  long-lasting,  wide-spreading, 
and  utterly  loathsome  case,  suioplementcd  and  aggravated 
as  they  are  by  the  powerful  Memorial  and  outspoken 
Speech  of  Archbishop  Abbot,  to  all  of  which  I  shall  always 
be  compelled  to  add  some  of  the  most  agonising  pages 
of  the  Private  Devotions — all  that  is  nothing  short  of  over- 
whelming evidence  to  me.  Had  Bishop  Andrewes  kept 
a  private  diary,  and  had  he  kept  his  diary  as  his  disciple 
and  friend  Archbishop  Laud  kept  his  ;  that  is  to  say,  had 
Andrewes  entered  his  '  unfortunatenesses  '  and  his  '  ill- 
haps  '  under  fast  days  and  in  cyphers  and  in  initials  as 
the  Archbishop  did,  I  cannot  doubt  what  some  of  those 
cyphers  and  initials  would  have  been,  nor  how  '  slubbered  ' 
they  would  have  been  '  with  his  pious  hands,  watered 
with  his  penitential  tears.'  '  Some  great  calamity  hap- 
pens to  you,  you  do  very  well  to  make  it  an  occasion  of 
exercising  a  great  devotion,'  says  William  Law. 

Much  as  I  should  like  to  agree  with  Mr.  Gardiner  in 
the   hesitation   and   judicial   doubt   of   which    he   gives 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  79 

Andrewes's  memory  the  benefit,  I  am  compelled  in  this 
matter  to  side  rather  M'ith  Mark  Pattison  and  with  many 
other  students  of  that  time  as  to  the  depth  of  the  infamy 
into  which  Bishop  Andrewes  slipped  and  fell  when  James 
summoned  him  to  vote,  and  pursued  after  him  and  com- 
pelled him  to  vote  on  the  king's  side,  which  was  also  the 
wanton's  side,  of  the  Essex  case.  I  would  not  have 
come  near  that  noisome  ditch  unless  I  had  seen  Bishoji 
Andrewes's  footsteps  being  dragged  up  toward  it  in  a 
leash  of  servility  till  he  all  but  sank  out  of  sight  under  it. 
Shall  I,  to  please  King  James  and  to  shelter  and  satisfy 
his  vile  favourites, — shall  I  send  my  soul  to  hell  !  shouted 
Archbishop  Abbot  to  one  of  the  king's  emissaries.  No  ! 
I  will  not  do  it.  But  Bishop  Andrewes  did  it.  And 
Bishop  Andrewes's  soul  is  still  in  hell  to  the  end  of  his  life, 
and  a  hundred  times  in  his  remorseful  Devotions,  because 
he  did  it.  There  is  no  other  word  for  it.  For  a  man 
like  Lancelot  Andrewes  to  have  to  look  back  all  his  days, 
and  that  too  from  an  episcopal  throne,  to  that  scandalous 
Essex  case,  and  to  see  himself  in  the  society,  if  not  in  the 
secrets,  of  James,  and  Rochester,  and  the  Countess  of 
Essex,  and  Mrs.  Turner,  and  Bishop  Neill, — out  of  the 
belly  of  hell  cried  I  !  As  whoredom  and  wine  take  away 
the  heart,  so  do  servility  and  party  spirit,  the  fear  of 
kings  and  the  respect  of  great  men.  But  as  David's 
heart  came  back  to  him  from  adultery  and  murder  in  the 
Fifty-first  Psalm,  so  did  Bishop  Andrewes's  heart  come 
back  to  him  from  servility  and  sycophancy  and  the  sale 
of  justice  in  many  a  confession  and  in  manj^  a  commenda- 
tion of  his  Private  Devotions.  If  I  did  not  believe  abso- 
lutely in  the  sincerity  and  the  truthfulness  of  Andrewes's 
repentance  in  every  literal  sjdlable  and  down  to  the 
blackest  bottom  of  that  sea  of  tears,  his  Private  Devotions, 
I  would  not  have  opened  my  mouth  or  taken  up  mj^  pen 


80  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

about  him.  But,  absolutely  and  utterly  believing  that 
Andrewes  means  all  that  he  says  when  he  is  on  his  knees 
clothed  in  sackcloth  and  with  dust  on  his  head  and  a  rope 
round  his  neck,  I  am  not  afraid  at  the  worst  thing  that  I 
meet  with  in  his  previous  life.  '  Come,'  says  Andrewes, 
'  and  hear,  all  ye  that  fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what 
He  hath  done  for  my  soul.  Blessed  be  God,  which  hath 
not  turned  away  my  prayer,  nor  His  mercy  from  me.' 

Andrewes  preached  one  of  his  least  pedantic  sermons, 
and  one  with  less  than  usual  of  his  '  ingenious  idleness  ' 
in  it,  before  James  in  Holyrood  Chapel  during  that 
royal  visit  to  our  city.  The  Edinburgh  people  even  in 
that  day  were  severe  judges  of  sermons,  and  the  king's 
favourite  preacher  did  not  escape  the  searching  climate 
into  which  he  had  come.  '  How  did  you  like  the  sermon 
this  morning  ?  '  James  was  still  Scotsman  enough  to 
ask  of  a  Presbyterian  lord  who  had  been  present  at  the 
service.  '  No  doubt  your  Majesty's  bishop  is  a  learned 
man,  but  he  cannot  preach.  He  rather  plays  with  his 
text  than  preaches  on  it.'  And  I  must  say  that  I 
entirely  agree  with  my  outspoken  fellow-countryman 
against  all  the  adulation  that  has  been  lavished  on 
Andrewes's  preaching  from  that  day  to  this.  Canon 
Mozley,  who  came  to  be  one  of  the  clearest-headed  and 
profoundest  writers  of  our  generation,  has  a  prepos- 
terously extravagant  paper  on  Andrewes's  Sermons,  in 
the  British  Critic  for  January  1842.  The  whole  paper 
is  a  set  and  a  highly  elaborated  eulogy  in  which  such 
overworked  words  are  applied  to  Andrewes's  sermons 
as  these : — force,  animation,  depth,  fertility,  felicity, 
admirable  decision  and  completeness,  quickness,  variety, 
dexterity,  richness,  rapidity,  ubiquity,  clear-headedness, 
manifoldness,  what  he  is  going  to  say  occupies  him, 
what  he  is  saying  he  only  says  and  no  more, — language 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  81 

which,  were  it  distributed  upon  Hooker's  sermons  and 
Taylor's  and  Newman's  and  Robertson's,  would  yield 
a  sufficiency  of  epithet  for  all  the  four.  After  Mozley 
has  Avritten  himself  out  of  breath,  he  settles  down  to  say 
that  '  these  characteristics  of  Bishop  Andrewes  are  not 
plainly  discernible,  we  allow,  at  first  sight.'  No,  they 
are  not.  Nor,  I  am  sincerely  sorry  to  say,  have  they 
been  discerned  at  all  by  one  who  has  looked  for  them 
longer  and  oftener  than  he  would  like  to  confess.  My 
sight  and  experience  of  Andrewes's  sermons  was  at 
first  and  still  is  rather  that  of  one  who  is  said  to  have 
set  a  high  value  upon  some  others  of  Andrewes's  writings, 
but  who,  at  the  same  time,  had  the  detachment  from 
party  spirit  and  the  intellectual  integrity  to  say, — '  I 
own  that  however  clear-headed  I  might  be  when  I  sat 
down  to  read  one  of  his  sermons,  I  invariably  rose  at  the 
conclusion  of  it  with  my  brain  bewildered  and  confused.' 
But  the  British  Critic  and  its  young  Anglo-Catholics  were 
all  engaged  in  that  day  in  writing  up,  without  rhyme  or 
reason,  the  churchmen  of  James's  and  Charles's  day  ; 
and  with  much  of  a  high,  a  fine,  and  a  quite  singular 
distinction,  at  the  same  time  less  theological  openness, 
less  true  catholicity,  and  less  fair  and  just  judgment  you 
will  scarcely  meet  with  anywhere  than  just  in  their 
sectarian  and  reactionary  writings.  Archdeacon  Hare 
is  the  only  writer  of  any  authority  and  eminence  I  know 
on  whom  the  good  sense  and  sound  judgment  of  that 
ancient  Scottish  lord  has  descended.  I  have  read  a 
good  many  sermons  in  my  time,  and  there  are  some 
sufficiently  High  Church  sermons  that  I  have  continually 
in  my  hands.  It  cannot  then  be  their  Church  doctrine, 
or  their  Church  tone,  or  their  exclusive  temper  that 
has  turned  me  so  often  away  from  Andrewes's  sermons. 
And  still  as  I  read  again  about  Andrewes,  and  as  his 


82  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

editors  and  biographers  and  fellow-churchmen  praise 
his  sermons,  I  go  back  to  his  five  volumes,  accusing 
myself  that  I  cannot  have  done  them  and  myself  proper 
justice, — but  always  with  the  same  result.  I  tried  to 
read  the  Gowrie  series  again  one  Sabbath  morning  above 
the  fiord  of  Mandal  in  Norway  during  my  late  holiday 
time  till  I  could  read  no  longer,  I  so  felt  as  I  read  that  I 
was  wasting  and  desecrating  the  Lord's  Day.  I  threw 
down  the  eight  maledictory  sermons  preached  before 
James  on  the  long  dead  and  buried  Gowrie  brothers, 
and  took  up  the  much  praised  sermon  on  Justification 
to  give  it  another  trial.  But  with  the  old  result.  The 
doctrine  was  all  right,  when  I  got  at  it.  The  doctrine 
was  the  Pauline,  Lutheran,  Puritan,  Presbyterian,  only 
possible  doctrine  on  that  text  and  on  that  topic,  but  the 
magnificent  doctrine  never  kindled  the  preacher,  never 
gave  him  wings,  never  carried  him  away,  never  fused 
nor  took  the  slag  out  of  his  style,  never  made  him  once 
eloquent,  never  to  the  end  of  his  sermon  made  him  a 
great  preacher  of  a  great  gospel.  I  felt  sorry  I  had  not 
brought  with  me  the  third  volume  of  Keble's  Hooker, 
such  was  my  hunger  for  Hooker's  greatest  sermon  after 
those  twenty  tantalising  pages  of  his  unimproved  con- 
temporary. But,  happily,  I  had  brought  Mr.  Henry 
Craik's  English  Prose  Selections  with  me,  the  first  volume 
of  which  contains  ten  pieces  out  of  Hooker  with  Mr. 
Vernon  Blackburn's  perfect  little  paper  prefixed.  Ay, 
that  is  preaching,  I  exclaimed  to  myself  as  I  read  and 
read  again  the  four  golden  pages  taken  out  of  Hooker's 
golden  sermon.  That  is  Avriting.  That  is  English. 
That  is  the  best  of  gospels  in  the  best  of  English.  Yes, 
when  I  go  back  to  Edinburgh,  and  have  my  classes  again 
before  me,  I  shall  command  them  to  master  Hooker,  at 
any   rate    on   Justification,    such   is    his   stj^le   in    that 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  83 

immortal  sermon,  his  dei)th,  his  strength,  and  his  siib- 
hmity.  I  shall  also  set  Andrewes's  Devotions  day  and 
night  before  them, — but  not  his  sermons.  Bruce's  and 
Hooker's  and  Donne's  and  Taylor's  and  Leighton's,  and 
many  other  sermons  since  their  day,  but  not  Andrewes's. 
Whoever  says  otherwise,  the  blunt,  uncourtly  Scottish 
lord  was  right.  We  are  assured  on  all  hands  that  the 
bishop's  delivery  was  '  inimitable.'  But  substance  and 
unction  have  always  come  before  delivery  in  Scotland. 
Andrewes  is  a  learned  man,  and,  better  than  that,  he 
can  pray  as  no  other  man  can  pray,  but  he  cannot  preach, 
to  be  called  preaching.  That  dissatisfied  Edinburgh 
lord  most  likely  was  one  of  Robert  Bruce's  elders,  and 
he  must  have  heard  that  '  stately  Presbyterian  divine  ' 
preach  his  famous  Five  Sermons  on  the  Lord's  Supper, 
and  his  Six  Sermons  on  King  Hezekiah's  Sickness,  and 
his  taste  for  a  sermon  must  have  been  formed  on  the 
model  of  that  preacher  of  such  distinction.  And  if  I 
had  the  ear  of  one  of  Bishop  Andrewes's  descendants  in 
Church  doctrine  and  in  English  preaching  I  should 
earnestly  advise  him  to  send  to  Edinburgh  for  Robert 
Bruce's  Sermons.  He  would  find  in  that  noble  volume 
what  we  in  Scotland  believe  to  be  the  true  New  Testa- 
ment teaching  on  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  he  would  see 
that  doctrine  put  forward  in  an  ancient  Scottish  style 
not  wholly  unworthy  of  the  great  subject.  Kcble  gives 
us  at  the  end  of  his  Hooker  a  sermon  of  Hooker's  which 
was  found  among  Bishop  Andrewes's  papers.  Found  in 
such  company,  it  was  as  if  a  sermon  of  Newman's  had 
got  in  among  Simeon's  skeletons.  It  is  enough  for  one 
man  that  he  can  pray  as  Andrewes  alone  can  pray,  but 
let  no  beginner  in  the  pulpit  go  to  Andrewes  to  learn 
how  to  preach. 

It  is  no  blame  to  Andrewes  that  he  cannot  preach 


84  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

like  Bruce  or  Hooker  or  Donne  or  Taylor  ;  great  preachers 
like  them  are  born  and  not  made.  But  no  man  has 
any  business  to  tune  and  tamper  with  his  pulpit  to  please 
either  his  king  or  his  congregation,  and  a  true  preacher 
will  never  do  it.  I  do  not  complain  of  Andrewes  because 
I  find  his  sermons  unreadable  and  unprofitable,  but  I 
cannot  excuse  him  for  his  Gowrie  and  Gunpowder  Plot 
series,  and  too  many  other  sermons  like  them.  Could 
James  not  have  got  some  other  of  his  Court  Chaplains  to 
curse  the  hanged  and  dismembered  Gowries  every  fifth 
of  August,  and  leave  Andrewes  to  his  proper  work  and 
to  his  private  prayers  ?  But  no.  James,  born  fool  as 
he  was  in  some  things,  was  a  shrewd  enough  sovereign 
in  some  other  things,  and  he  knew  quite  well  what  he 
was  doing  when  he  commanded  Lancelot  Andrewes  in 
England,  while  never  all  he  could  do  could  command 
Robert  Bruce  in  Scotland,  to  preach  or  to  pray  to 
his  policy  and  to  his  passions.  What  a  pity  it  is,  I 
have  sometimes  exclaimed  to  myself,  that  anything  of 
Andrewes's  has  been  preserved  besides  his  Devotions  ! 
And  yet,  may  it  not  have  been  so  ordained  in  order  to 
comfort  and  assure  us  every  night  when  we  have  to  go 
with  a  continual  confession  that  is  such  a  continual 
condemnation  and  such  a  continual  contrast  to  our 
everyday  life.  '  O  God,'  prayed  Andrewes  in  secret 
every  night,  '  save  me  from  making  a  god  of  the  king.' 
On  this  whole  matter  the  sim^ole  truth  is  that  the  plainest 
facts  of  history  and  of  biography  in  Andrewes's  case 
have  been  so  twisted  about  and  so  covered  up  by  party 
spirit  and  ecclesiastical  pride  that  it  is  impossible  to 
draw  them  out  into  any  light  of  day  without  great  pain 
and  great  regret.  But  what  has  here  been  said  has  this 
for  it  at  any  rate,  that  it  was  a  very  unwelcome  and  a 
very  distressing  discovery  to  the  present  speaker  when  he 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  85 

made  it.     It  seemed  to  him  like  laying  hands  on  one's 
own  father,  as  some  one  has  said  it  somewhere  in  Plato. 

Lancelot  Andrew^es  was  a  fast-rising  scholar  of  Pem- 
broke when  Francis  Bacon  went  up  to  Trinity  in  the 
'  pregnancy  and  towardness  of  his  wit,'  a  boy  between 
twelve  and  thirteen  years  of  age.  And  Lord  Bacon's 
name  comes  afterwards  to  be  the  symbol  of  so  much, 
that  we  like  to  think  of  two  such  men  as  Andrewes  and 
Bacon  being  early  and  lifelong  friends.  And,  though 
I  do  not  know  that  we  have  documents  for  it,  I  like  to 
think  of  the  elder  scholar  selecting  the  younger  and  taking 
him  out  to  those  country  walks  and  talks  that  Isaacson 
has  told  us  about  so  delightfully.  That  the  rising  divine 
and  the  pushing  young  lawyer  were  intimate  friends  early 
in  life  we  have  abundant  evidence.  Mr.  SjDcdding,  who 
has  unearthed  everj^thing  that  exists  about  Bacon,  has 
produced  an  invitation  that  Bacon  sent  to  Andrewes 
when  he  was  preacher  in  St.  Giles',  Cripplegate,  ask- 
ing him  to  come  out  to  Twickenham  to  share  a  holiday 
with  a  party  of  young  lawyers  and  other  scholars. 
But  Andrewes's  pulpit  duties  detained  him  at  home. 
Andrewes  all  his  days  loved  good  society  and  a  hospit- 
able table,  but  not  till  his  day's  work  w'as  done.  Through- 
out life,  Bacon's  biographer  assures  us,  the  Lord  Chan- 
cellor held  the  bishop  in  special  reverence.  Indeed, 
there  is  nothing  either  in  Andrewes's  best  life  or  in  his 
best  work  that  gives  us  such  a  high  idea  of  his  intellect 
as  the  fact  that  Bacon  submitted  The  Advancement  of 
Learning  and  some  others  of  his  magnificent  books  to 
Andrewes,  calling  him  his  inquisitor,  and  asking  him  for 
his  criticisms  and  corrections.  '  You  were  wont  to  make 
me  believe  that  you  took  a  liking  to  my  writings  ;  will 
you  therefore  mark  what  you  think  not  current  in  my 
style,   or  harsh  to  credit  and  opinion,   or  inconvenient 


86  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

to  the  position  of  the  writer.  For  to  write  at  one's  ease,' 
as  Bacon  said  to  Casaubon  about  another  book  of  his, 
'  that  which  others  are  to  read  at  their  ease  is  of  httle 
consequence.  The  contemplations  I  have  in  view  are 
those  which  may  bring  about  the  better  ordering  of  man's 
hfe  and  business  with  all  its  turmoil.  How  great  an 
enterprise  is  this,  and  with  Avhat  small  help  I  have 
attempted  it.'  This  of  Bacon  leads  us  into  his  Private 
Memoranda,  where  we  see  him  laying  his  lines  to  '  fish 
for  testaments,'  for  loans,  for  gifts,  for  bribes,  and  indeed 
for  anything  and  everything  that  would  bring  in  money 
to  a  poor  man  who  had  taken  all  knowledge  for  his  pro- 
vince, a  province,  as  he  often  sadly  said,  that  would  take 
a  king  or  a  pope  to  occupy  and  hold  it.  Bacon  sets  it 
down  among  other  like  secret  plots  against  his  best 
friends, — '  not  desisting  to  draw  in  Bishop  Andrewes, 
he  being  single,  rych,  and  sickly.'  '  Bacon's  was  a 
mind,'  says  Dr.  Abbott,  '  unique  and  extraordinary''  ; 
worldly,  it  is  true,  but  not  after  the  common  fashion  of 
worldliness  ;  say  rather  an  unworldly  mind  of  super- 
human magnanimity,  gradually  becoming  enslaved  by 
the  world  while  professing  to  use  the  world  as  a  mere 
tool.  Bacon  will  place  all  the  arts  of  worldliness  at  the 
feet  of  Truth,  and  will  master  them  by  first  obeying 
them.'  '  A  man  whose  fall,'  as  the  same  writer  so  truly 
and  so  finely  says,  '  shook  men's  confidence  in  humanity.' 
Broken  in  health  and  broken  in  heart  as  Bacon  might 
well  be  by  a  fall  that  shook  the  world,  and  the  terrible 
shock  of  which  we  still  feel  to  this  day.  Bacon  died  at  his 
desk.  And,  though  Andrewes  had  sat  on  his  trial  and  had 
acquiesced  in  his  sentence.  Bacon  continues  to  acquaint 
Andrewes  with  all  his  intended  work,  and  consults  him 
about  it  to  the  end.  Bacon's  Holy  War  is  not  Bunyan's 
book  of  the  same  name.     '  There  cannot  but  ensue  a 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  87 

dissolution  of  the  state  of  the  Turk,  whereof  the  time 
seemeth  to  approach.  The  events  of  time  do  seem  to 
invite  Christian  kings  to  a  war  in  respect  of  the  great 
corruption  and  relaxation  of  discipline  in  that  empire.' 
It  would  have  been  very  interesting  to  us  in  our  day  to 
have  been  able  to  read  the  mature  mind  of  Bacon  on  the 
rights  and  wrongs  of  a  war  to  be  carried  on  by  England 
and  the  united  West  against  '  the  enemy  of  Christendom.' 
But  Bacon  only  lived  to  overtake  a  few  pages  of  his  Holy 
War,  Most  happily,  however,  he  had  written  the  pre- 
face before  he  began  the  body  of  the  book,  and  he  had 
given  to  the  preface  the  form  of  a  Dedicatory  Letter  to 
Andrewes  (now  Bishop  of  Winchester),  and  a  most 
important  piece  of  Bacon's  mental  autobiography  it  is. 
Dante  and  Bacon  and  Milton  were  three  gigantic  brothers 
in  intellect,  they  were  each  sent  into  a  world  wholly  out 
of  joint,  and  they  all  three  write  about  themselves  in 
their  disjointed  worlds  as  only  giants  are  enabled  and 
permitted  to  write.  Bacon's  Dedication  and  Advertise- 
ment to  his  Holy  War  stands  beside  Dante's  classification 
and  comparison  of  himself  with  Homer  and  Virgil,  and 
beside  Milton's  magnificent  proposals  and  preparations 
for  the  work  of  his  life.  After  comparing  his  case  with 
the  cases  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  and  Seneca,  Bacon 
goes  on  to  say  this  to  Andrewes  :  '  These  examples  con- 
firmed me  in  a  resolution  to  spend  my  time  wholly  in 
writing,  and  to  put  out  that  poor  talent  or  half  talent, 
or  what  it  is,  that  God  hath  given  me,  not  as  heretofore 
to  particular  exchanges,  but  to  banks  and  mounts  of 
perpetuity  which  will  not  break.  And  therefore  this 
work,  not  for  the  City,  but  for  the  Temple,  I  have  dedi- 
cated to  your  lordship,  in  respect  of  ancient  and  private 
acquaintance,  and  because  I  hold  you  in  special  reverence.' 
Great  Bacon,  and  noble  in  all  his  ignobility  !     '  In  his 


88  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

great  adversity  I  prayed,'  says  Ben  Jonson,  '  that  God 
would  give  him  strength,  for  greatness  he  could  not  want.' 
'  The  most  exquisitely  constructed  intellect,'  says  Macau- 
lay,  '  that  has  ever  been  bestowed  on  the  children  of 
men.'  It  is  the  fashion  to-day  to  run  down  Macaulay, 
but  let  all  gifted  and  ambitious  young  men  read  that 
great  writer's  Essay  on  Bacon  and  lay  it  to  heart  once 
every  year.  As  for  Spedding  and  Ellis,  they  should  lie 
beside  every  young  lawyer's  Bible  and  Private  Devotions. 
There  is  no  finer  picture  of  Andrewes  to  be  seen  any- 
where than  that  which  is  painted  in  Mark  Pattison's 
classical,  if  somewhat  cold  and  supercilious,  Life  of  Isaac 
Casauhon.  Though  the  Rector  of  Lincoln  says  some  very 
severe  things  of  Bishop  Andrewes,  at  the  same  time, 
in  no  other  book  that  I  know  is  there  such  an  altogether 
delightful  ghmpse  given  us  of  the  beauty  and  attractive- 
ness of  Andrewes's  private  character.  The  truly  episco- 
pal hospitality, — his  lordship,  it  was  said,  kept  Christ- 
mas all  the  year, — the  noble  courtesy,  the  exquisite 
geniality  and  tenderness,  and  the  whole  graciousness  and 
affectionateness  of  the  bishop's  nature  never  came  out 
better  than  all  that  did  in  his  whole  connection  with 
Casaubon.  It  is  true  there  were  more  things  than  one 
that  went  to  attract  and  to  attach  those  two  men  to  one 
another.  '  Profound  piety,'  says  Pattison,  '  and  great 
reading,  common  to  both,  placed  them  at  once  in  sym- 
pathy.' But,  besides  that,  their  ecclesiastical  views  also, 
their  attitude  toward  those  questions  of  Church  order 
and  public  worship  which  were  agitating  and  rending  all 
the  Churches  in  Christendom  at  that  day,  drew  the 
scholar  and  the  bishop  continually  closer  and  closer  to 
one  another.  '  The  Anglican  ritual,'  says  his  able  bio- 
grapher, '  exactly  met  Casaubon's  aspirations  after  the 
decent  simplicity  of  primitive  worship,  though  his  Presby- 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  89 

terian  sentiment  was  at  first  inclined  to  find  a  little  too 
much  pomp  and  pride  mingling  with  some  parts  of  the 
episcopal  services.  But,  on  the  whole,  he  preferred  the 
Anghcan  ceremonies  to  the  bare  and  naked  usages  of  his 
own  communion.  At  the  same  time,  he  never  forsook 
the  French  congregation  of  which  he  continued  to  be  a 
member.  He  attended  the  preaching  from  time  to  time, 
though  not  seldom  hearing  doctrine  from  which  he 
differed,  and  philology  which  he  knew  to  be  rotten.' 
But,  besides  all  that,  the  two  scholars  were  continually 
thrown  together  at  Court  in  carrying  on  those  loyal 
labours  to  which  the  king  had  for  so  long  yoked  the  bishop, 
and  to  assist  the  bishop  in  which  with  his  omnipotent  pen 
the  greatest  classical  scholar  in  Europe  had  been  brought 
over  from  France.  Chained  to  his  task,  the  best  ecclesi- 
astical scholar  in  England  had  been  toiling  for  years  past 
at  those  controversies  in  which  the  Crown  and  the  Church 
of  England  had  become  involved  with  the  great  Catholic 
theologians  and  casuists  of  that  day  ;  and  Casaubon's 
arrival  in  London  was  hailed  as  the  advent  of  a  heaven- 
sent assistant  to  Andrewes  and  liis  cause.  Long  before 
they  had  seen  each  other's  face  Andrewes  and  Casaubon 
were  already  at  one  in  their  intense  hatred  of  Bellarmine 
and  Baronius,  and  no  sooner  had  they  shaken  hands 
than  they  sat  down  to  work  to  each  other's  hands  at  a 
task  which  was  to  them  at  once  the  service  of  the  Truth, 
of  the  Church,  and  of  the  State  ;  the  service  of  God,  and 
of  their  king  and  patron  James  the  First.  Casaubon's 
diary  of  those  delightful  days  is  full  of  Andrewes,  and 
the  admiration  and  the  esteem  are  quite  as  much,  to  his 
honour  be  it  said,  on  the  great  bishop's  side  as  on  the 
poor  scholar's.  '  Come  and  shoot  a  buck  with  me. 
Throw  aside  your  books  this  hot  weather.  Shut  up  your 
Drury  Lane  lodgings,  and  let  me  see  your  dear  face.     I 


90  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

am  not  well  in  my  solitude,  but  a  visit  from  you  will  set 
me  on  my  feet.  Come  down  at  once  if  you  would  be  in 
time  for  Stourbridge  Fair,  the  finest  thing  of  its  kind  in 
all  England.  But,  if  you  have  no  taste  for  an  English 
fair,  then  I  have  beside  me  at  this  moment  a  Matthew 
in  Hebrew  that  will  make  your  mouth  water.  Do  be 
persuaded  to  come.  Be  so  good  as  to  remember  that 
the  hand  which  writes  these  lines  is  ill  with  the  ague. 
Coming  or  going,  God  keep  you  long  to  be  an  ornament 
to  letters.'  And  then  when  Casaubon  did  find  his  way  to 
the  palace  at  Downham, — to  see  the  two  solitary  scholars 
together  is  delightful.  It  is  a  rebuke  and  an  inspiration 
to  open  Casaubon's  diary  for  those  holiday  weeks.  The 
two  book-lovers  read  more  in  the  mornings  of  their  holi- 
daj^s  than  other  men  read  all  the  year  round.  Thej?^ 
breakfasted  alone  to  gain  time  and  to  keep  the  freshness 
of  the  day  for  their  private  devotions  and  their  peculiar 
studies.  And  then  they  met,  the  best  of  company,  at 
their  early  mid-day  dinner.  Andre wes  '  doubted,'  so 
Isaacson  reports  his  master,  '  they  were  no  true  scholars 
who  came  to  speak  to  a  man  before  noon.'  Casaubon 
was  happy  in  everything  at  Ely,  the  bishop's  present 
diocese,  but  in  the  distance  of  his  books.  The  bishop 
had  a  fine  library,  as  the  catalogue  of  it  still  proves  ;  but, 
unhappily,  it  was  nearly  all  in  London,  where  Andrewes 
spent  the  most  part  of  every  yeav  in  attendance  at  Court 
and  in  writing  controversies  for  the  king.  Both  Casaubon 
and  Andrewes  were  of  Pericles'  mind,  and  held  that  not 
a  Greek's  best  holiday  only,  but  an  Englishman's  and  a 
Frenchman's  best  holiday  also,  was  that  day  on  which 
he  did  most  of  his  duty.  And  accordingly  the  Master  of 
Peterhouse  was  largely  requisitioned  for  the  loan  of  his 
most  learned  books  when  Andrewes  and  Casaubon  were 
at  Ely.     Books  and  manuscripts  were  the  tools  of  Casau- 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  91 

bon's  life,  and  even  if  he  was  not  working  at  his  full 
strength  while  he  was  at  Ely,  at  the  same  time  he  loved 
to  be  feeling  the  edge  of  his  tools,  and  to  have  them  and 
his  whetstone  always  near  him.  When  Casaubon  was 
not  composing  he  was  always  collecting  materials  for  his 
next  composition.  His  advice  to  all  true  students  is 
this  :  '  Remember  that  it  is  of  no  use  to  have  read  a  thing, 
unless  you  retain  it  in  your  memory.  Make  notes  there- 
fore of  everything  you  read,  as  aids  to  your  memory.' 
The  books  that  Casaubon  read  at  Downham  and  made 
copious  notes  of  would  stagger  an  ordinary  student  so 
much  as  even  to  hear  their  bare  names,  and  he  always 
put  at  the  head  of  his  sheet  of  notes  this  motto  in  Greek, 
'  Alone  and  at  work  with  God.'  After  their  mid-day 
dinner  the  two  friends  spent  the  afternoon  walking, 
riding,  visiting  the  parishes  of  the  diocese,  inspecting 
the  church  fabrics,  entertaining  friends,  transfixing  a 
buck,  but  always  their  best  recreation  and  entertain- 
ment was  to  be  talking  together  of  books.  Still,  with 
all  that,  there  was  nothing  that  went  so  deep  both  into 
the  hearts  and  into  the  characters  of  those  two  good  men 
as  their  life  of  faith,  of  prayer,  and  of  personal  holiness. 
If  there  were  two  saints  of  God  in  England  that  summer, 
they  were  surely  to  be  found  under  the  roof  of  the  episco- 
pal palace  of  Ely.  Writing  of  thirty  years  before,  Patti- 
son's  somewhat  grudging  words  are  these  :  '  The  religious 
sentiment  was  ever  suggesting  to  young  Casaubon  the 
futility  of  worldly  knowledge,  and  the  superior  value  of 
religious  studies.  This  impression  may  be  traced  to  the 
early  years  of  the  son  of  the  Huguenot  pastor  who  had 
to  fly  to  the  hills.  From  the  first  there  were  two  men  in 
Casaubon,  the  theologian  and  the  scholar.'  And  sum- 
ming uj)  his  life  his  somewhat  too  aloof  biographer  says  : 
'  The  habitual  attitude  of  Casaubon's  soul  was  abandon- 


92  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

ment ;  not  merely  resignation,  but  prostration  before  the 
Unseen.  He  moved,  thought,  and  felt,  as  in  the  presence 
of  God.  His  family  and  friends  lay  near  to  his  heart, 
but  nearer  than  all  is  God.  In  all  his  thoughts  the 
thought  of  God  is  subsumed.'  And  again,  '  his  diary  is 
one  prolonged  litany.'  Yes  :  so  it  is.  David's  Psalms 
were  never  out  of  Casaubon's  hands,  and  the  best  day  he 
spent  at  Downham  was  not  the  day  when  he  transfixed 
three  bucks,  but  the  day  when  all  alone  in  the  bishop's 
copse  he  read  the  Hundred-and-nineteenth  Psalm  over 
again  with  a  rapturous  heart.  Pleasantly  as  his  holiday 
passed,  and  in  spite  of  the  bishop's  '  golden  chains  of 
courtesy,'  Casaubon  began  to  be  feverish  for  London 
and  for  his  own  books.  But  the  great  scholar's  life  of 
books  in  this  world  soon  after  that  came  to  an  end.  '  In 
answer  to  your  questions,'  writes  Andre wes  to  Heinsius 
in  1614,  '  regarding  the  departure  of  that  illustrious  man. 
In  the  morning  of  the  day  on  which  he  died  he  received 
the  Holy  Sacrament  from  my  hand  ;  and  that  because 
three  days  before  he  had  begged  it  of  me.  After  the 
sacrament  he  expressed  a  wish  that  Simeon's  Canticle 
should  be  chanted.  There  was  nothing  in  the  whole 
world  of  the  slightest  interest  to  that  Christian  man  Casau- 
bon, unless  what  related  to  piety  and  holiness,  and  that 
was  most  evident  amid  his  last  tortures.  His  remains 
were  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey  in  front  of  the  doors 
of  that  chapel  in  which  the  monuments  of  our  kings  are 
seen.' 

Lancelot  Andrewes  was  born  of  honest  and  godly 
parents  in  1555.  We  find  him  a  scholar  of  Pembroke  in 
1571,  and  Dean  of  Westminster  in  1601.  Hooker  died 
in  1600  at  the  age  of  forty-six,  and  on  hearing  of  his  death 
Andrewes  wrote  of  him,  '  He  hath  not  that  I  know  left 
any  near  him.'     Queen  Elizabeth  died  in  March  1603 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  93 

and  four  months  later  Andrewcs  assisted  at  the  corona- 
tion of  James.  In  1605  he  was  raised  to  be  Bishop  of 
Chichester,  he  was  one  of  the  translators  of  the  Bible  in 
1607,  and  in  1609  he  published  his  very  learned  Tortura 
Torti  against  Cardinal  Bellarmine,  an  uncongenial  task, 
imposed  upon  him  by  the  king.  In  the  end  of  the  same 
year  he  was  translated  to  Ely,  where  Casaubon  spent 
part  of  the  summer  of  1611  with  the  bishop.  In  1613  he 
sat  as  one  of  the  judges  on  the  Essex  case.  In  1617  he 
attended  the  king  on  his  visit  to  Scotland,  and  in  1618 
he  was  translated  from  Ely  to  Winchester.  In  1621 
Bacon  fell,  and  Andrewcs  was  one  of  the  deputation  of 
peers  who  attended  on  Bacon  to  receive  his  confession 
and  submission.  In  1621  he  sat  on  Archbishop  Abbot's 
case  also,  and  '  the  party,'  says  Thomas  Fuller,  '  whom 
the  archbishop  suspected  his  greatest  foe,  proved  his 
most  firm  and  effectual  friend,  even  Lancelot  Andrewcs, 
Bishop  of  Winchester.'  In  1623  James  died.  On  his 
deathbed  the  king  sent  for  Andrewcs,  but  the  favourite 
bishop  was  so  ill  himself  at  the  time  that  it  was  not 
possible  for  him  to  come  to  bid  his  royal  master  farewell. 
On  the  2nd  of  February  1626  Andrewcs  w^as  able  to  be 
present  at  the  coronation  of  Charles  the  First,  in  which 
ceremony,  both  on  account  of  his  high  office  and  his 
personal  acceptability,  he  took  a  foremost  place.  This 
was  one  of  the  last  public  acts  that  AndrcAves  ever  per- 
formed. '  His  gratitude  to  men,'  says  his  secretary, 
'  was  now  changed  into  thankfulness  to  God.  His 
affability  to  incessant  and  devout  prayers  and  speeches 
with  his  Creator  and  Redeemer  and  Sanctifier.  His 
laborious  studies  to  restless  groans,  sighs,  cries,  and  tears. 
His  hands  laboiu-ing,  his  eyes  lifted  up,  and  his  heart 
beating  and  panting  to  see  the  living  God,  even  to  the  last 
of  his  breath.'     Under  Monday  the  25th  of  September 


94  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

1626  we  read  in  Archbishop  Laud's  diary  this  entry  : 
'  About  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  died  Lancelot 
Andrewes,  the  most  worthy  Bishop  of  Winchester,  the 
great  light  of  the  Christian  world.' 

Andrewes  has  left  behind  him  five  volumes  of  sermons, 
preached  for  the  most  part  at  Court,  and  on  special  occa- 
sions ;  two  or  three  columns  of  controversial  matter,  a 
volume  of  catechetical  matter,  and  the  Private  Devotions, 
The  Private  Devotions,  as  the  name  indicates,  was  never 
intended  for  publication.  Andrewes  wrote  the  little  book 
for  his  own  use,  and  then,  when  he  was  done  with  it,  he 
gave  it  to  his  great  friend  Archbishop  Laud. 

The  Eastern  Churches  have  a  very  noble  devotional 
literature,  which  has  been  made  accessible  to  the  English 
student  in  the  works  of  Maskell,  Palmer,  Neale,  Little- 
dale,  Hammond,  Bright,  and  Robertson,  as  well  as  in  the 
Prayer-Books  of  Edward  and  Elizabeth.  And  such  heirs 
of  such  riches  are  we,  and  such  joint-heirs  with  all  the 
Churches,  that  we  possess  yet  another  great  treasure  in 
the  more  private  and  more  personal  devotional  books  of 
all  ages  and  all  nations.  We  have  the  Confessions  of 
Augustine,  the  Prayers  and  Soliloquies  of  Anselm,  the 
unfinished  Holy  Week  and  other  great  prayers  and 
praises  of  Jacob  Behmcn,  the  Golden  Grove  of  Jeremy 
Taylor,  the  Private  Devotions  of  Lancelot  Andrewes, 
and  William  Laud,  and  Thomas  Wilson,  and  many  other 
suchlike  precious  possessions.  But,  for  its  peculiar  pur- 
pose and  for  its  special  use,  Andre wes's  Private  Devo- 
tions stands  out  at  the  head  of  them  all.  There  is  nothing 
in  the  whole  range  of  devotional  literature  to  be  set  beside 
Andrewes's  incomparable  Devotions.  Its  author's  jDublic 
and  private  life  ;  his  intense  conscience  of  his  past  sins 
and   of   his   abiding   sinfulness ;     his   keen,    all-realising 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  95 

faith  in  God  and  in  the  grace  of  God  ;  his  soaring  and 
adoring  love  ;  his  universal  scholarship,  especially  in 
the  sacred  schools  ;  his  so  original  method  and  so  peculiar 
plan  in  the  conception  and  in  the  composition  of  his  book  ; 
and  the  long  lifetime  of  profoundest  penitential  and 
importunate  prayer  that  he  has  put  into  his  book, — all 
these  and  many  other  things  combine  to  make  Bishop 
Andrewcs's  Private  Devotions  to  stand  alone  and  mi- 
approached  in  the  literature  of  the  closet  and  the  mercy- 
seat.  To  myself  one  of  the  chiefest  compensations  and 
offsets  for  the  reign  of  James  the  First  is  this,  that  the 
Private  Devotions  of  Lancelot  Andrewes  were  being  con- 
tinually composed  and  Avere  being  continually  employed, 
— were  being  continually  wrung  out  of  him, — during  the 
whole  course  of  that  so  mischievous  and  insufferable 
reign.  As  the  chief  interest  of  the  reign  of  this  and  that 
king  of  Judah  and  Israel  lies  in  such  and  such  prophets 
and  psalmists  and  righteous  men  who  lived  and  wrote 
in  the  reigns  of  those  kings,  so  is  it  with  us  in  our  own 
national  history.  Kings  and  queens,  protectors  and 
presidents,  and  the  times  of  their  rule,  are  ultimately 
memorable  and  honourable  still  by  notliing  so  much  as 
by  the  good  and  the  great  men  they  had  among  their 
subjects,  the  progress  that  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  made 
in  their  day,  and  not  least  by  the  number  and  the  quality 
of  the  books  belonging  to  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  that 
were  written  in  their  day.  And  that  the  English  Bible, 
the  Five  Sermons  on  the  Sacraments,  Donne's  Sermons, 
and  the  Private  Devotions — not  to  speak  in  this  place  of 
Macljeth,  and  Hamlet,  and  Lear,  and  the  Essays,  and  the 
Advancement — have  all  come  down  to  us  out  of  James's 
day,  that  covers  a  multitude  of  the  sins  of  his  day,  and 
that  will  make  his  day  to  remain  rich  and  illustrious 
to  all  time  in  the  estimation  of  the  Church  of  Christ  in 


96  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

our  land,  and  in  all  other  English-reading  lands.  It  is  to 
James's  insight  that  we  owe  it  that  John  Donne  ever  was 
a  minister, — of  whom  Professor  Saintsbury  says  that  in 
the  strength  and  savour  of  his  quality  he  has  no  rival  in 
English,  no  rival  indeed  anywhere  but  in  the  author  of 
the  Confessions. 

In  the  composition  of  his  Devotions,  Lancelot 
Andrewes  had  anticipated  and  had  already  fulfilled  all 
William  Law's  best  counsels.  '  When  at  any  time,' 
Law  advises  us,  '  either  in  reading  the  Scriptures  or  any 
book  of  piety,  you  meet  with  a  passage  that  more  than 
ordinarily  affects  your  mind,  and  seems  as  it  were  to  give 
your  heart  a  new  motion  toward  God,  you  should  try  to 
turn  it  into  the  form  of  a  petition,  and  then  give  it  a 
place  in  your  prayers.  By  this  means  you  would  be 
often  improving  your  prayers,  and  storing  yourself  with 
proper  forms  of  making  the  desires  of  your  heart  known 
unto  God.'  And,  again,  returning  in  another  place  to 
the  same  subject :  '  If  they  were  to  collect  the  best  forms 
of  devotion,  and  to  use  themselves  to  transcribe  the 
finest  passages  of  Scripture-prayers  ;  if  they  were  to 
collect  the  devotions,  confessions,  petitions,  praises, 
resignation,  and  thanksgivings,  which  are  scattered  up 
and  down  the  Psalms,  and  range  them  under  proper 
heads,  as  so  much  proper  fuel  for  the  flame  of  their  own 
devotions  ;  if  their  minds  were  often  thus  employed, 
sometimes  meditating  upon  them,  sometimes  getting 
them  by  heart,  and  making  them  habitual  as  their  own 
thoughts,  how  fervently  would  they  pra)'',  who  came  thus 
prepared  to  pray  ! '  Now,  this  was  exactly  and  to  the 
letter  what  Andrewes  had  already  done  a  hundred  years 
to  a  day  before  Law  so  pleaded  with  his  readers.  When 
Andrewes  met  with  a  verse  or  a  clause  or  so  much  as  a 
word  in  any  scripture  that  specially  suited  into  his  own 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  97 

case  ;  when  David,  or  Asaph,  or  Job,  or  Paul  said  any- 
thing, or  hinted  at  anything,  that  went  to  Andrewes's 
heart,  on  the  spot  he  took  that  word  down,  and  that  too 
in  its  own  native  Hebrew  or  Greek,  as  the  case  might  be. 
And  he  did  the  same  thing  when  he  would  be  reading 
any  of  the  ancients  of  the  Latin  or  Orient  Kirks,  as 
Robert  Bruce  called  them.  Such  is  the  care  and  the 
labour  of  those  who  write  the  masterpieces  in  any  branch 
of  letters.  Andrewes  made  such  a  constant  practice  of 
this,  and  had  formed  such  a  settled  habit  of  it,  that  as 
his  life  went  on  his  book  of  secret  prayer  came  to  be 
filled  with  all  the  best  passages  in  the  Psalms,  in  the 
Prophets,  in  the  Gospels,  and  in  the  Epistles,  as  also  in 
the  sermons  and  litanies  and  liturgies  of  the  Fathers 
and  the  Saints,  till  we  have  a  perfect  portrait  before  us 
of  Andrewes's  inmost  soul,  and  that  too  in  lines  and  in 
colours  borrowed  from  those  hands  that  could  best 
draw  such  deep  lines  and  best  mix  such  strong  and 
lasting  colours.  Every  verse,  every  clause  of  a  verse, 
every  single  word  and  syllable,  indeed,  that  Andrewes 
quotes  has  some  special  and  inspired  reference  to  him- 
self alone.  It  is  not  quotation  with  him,  it  is  assimila- 
tion ;  it  is  appropriation  ;  and  it  is  the  recovery  and  the 
reappropriation  of  that  which  is  indisputably  his  own 
wherever  he  comes  across  it.  He  passes  over  whole 
chapters  and  whole  books  in  silence  and  with  a  dry  pen. 
Only  this  one  word  in  this  whole  Psalm  is  his,  and  he 
straightway  takes  this  one  word  out  of  the  whole  Psalm 
and  leaves  to  its  author  and  to  its  other  readers  all  the 
rest  of  the  Psalm.  He  takes  but  what  is  demonstrably 
his  own,  and  what  has  no  such  interest  and  no  such  value 
to  any  one  else,  and  he  hides  it  ever  afterwards  in  his 
heart.  He  steals  it  down  from  all  eyes  into  the  book 
which  he  never  opens  till  after  his  door  is  shut.     And 

G 


98  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

thus  it  is  that  all  formality,  all  insincerity,  all  mere  lip- 
service,  and  all  multiplying  of  sacred  words  for  the 
sake  of  their  sound  is  excluded  from  this  severe,  sincere, 
and  serious  little  book.  The  author's  method  with 
himself  and  with  his  Bible  excludes  all  that,  and  protects 
him  and  his  readers  from  their  constant  temptation  to 
all  that. 

Andrewes  always  carried  out  the  same  method  of 
selection  and  assimilation  as  he  read  the  devotional 
books  of  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  Fathers.  Only,  I 
feel  sure  that  a  great  deal  too  much  has  been  made  of 
what  Andrewes  owes  to  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  litanists 
and  liturgists.  Now  and  then  you  will  come  on  a  passage 
that  is  plainly  borrowed  from  Chrysostom,  or  Basil, 
or  the  '  Liturgy  of  St.  James,'  but  for  one  word  that 
Andrewes  owes  to  Chrysostom  he  owes  a  hundred  to 
David.  The  truth  is,  the  Devotions  are  far  more  original, 
so  to  call  it,  than  has  ever  been  allowed  even  by  those 
who  are  tempted  to  sacrifice  the  plain  truth  to  their 
partiality  and  their  praise  of  Andrewes.  All  that 
Mozley  says  so  uncritically  and  so  extravagantly  about 
Andrewes's  sermons,  with  some  chastening  and  some 
selecting,  could  then  be  very  well  and  very  truly  said 
about  his  Devotions.  And  I  venture  to  prophesy  that 
when  the  genuine  and  original  Laudian  text  has  been 
translated,  and  when  all  the  scriptural  and  liturgical 
and  other  quotations,  references,  and  allusions  have 
been  traced  up  to  their  sources,  the  bishop's  book  will 
nevertheless  be  seen  to  be  absolutely  his  own.  The 
main  sources  from  which  he  drew  were  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures and  his  own  life.  The  Jnsiitutiones  Pice  is  a  little 
volume  of  clear,  simple,  svyeet  English  writing,  not  at 
all  equal  in  depth  or  in  strength  to  the  Devotions,  but  a 
great  improvement  on  the  style  of  the  sermons.     This 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  99 

and  the  Manual  for  the  Sick  are  excellent  little  books, 
and  were  the  product  of  Andrewes's  personal  religion  and 
of  his  pastoral  work  when  he  was  as  yet  an  obscure 
and  a  single-hearted  young  minister  with  his  whole  time 
and  his  whole  strength  given  up  to  his  pulpit  and  to 
his  pastorate. 

To  the  question  why  the  best  part  of  the  Devotions 
was  written  in  Greek,  I  have  no  better  answer  to  offer 
than  that  which  honest  Stationer  Moseley  offered  to 
the  Christian  reader  from  his  shop  in  St.  Paul's  Church- 
yard in  1647.  '  He  penned  them  in  Greek,  and  in  that 
language  presented  them  to  his  God  ;  the  reason  is  not 
for  me  to  determine ;  whether  it  were  for  that  the 
evidences  of  our  salvation  are  delivered  to  us  in  that 
tongue,  or  whether  amongst  those  fifteen  he  was  master 
of,  he  chose  this  language  as  the  most  copious  to  express 
the  fulness  of  his  soul.'  To  which  let  me  add  this  out 
of  the  Preface  to  Dean  Stanhope's  translation  :  '  Such 
of  his  prayers  as  were  brought  nearest  to  perfection  he 
wrote  in  Greek,  either  because  the  New  Testament,  the 
Septuagint,  and  most  of  the  ancient  Fathers  and  Liturgies, 
whence  he  extracted  a  good  deal,  were  in  that  language, 
or  because  that  language  had  some  advantage  for 
devotion,  as  the  many  compound  words  it  contains 
strengthen  the  ideas  they  convey  to  us,  and  make  a  more 
lively  impression  on  the  mind.'  The  fulness  of  the 
Greek  spirit  also,  in  its  form,  order,  elevation,  taste, 
beauty,  music,  falls  on  Andrewes,  and  for  the  first  time 
takes  full  possession  of  Andrewes,  when  he  enters  his 
closet.  And  thus  it  is  that,  when  we  take  Andrewes's 
method  and  manner  of  composition  along  with  his 
sources  and  with  the  language  he  wrote  in,  we  have 
before  us  in  his  Private  Devotions  a  perfect  portrait  of 
that    man    of    prayer.     We    have    Andrewes,    in    his 


100  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

Devotions,  if  not  altogether  as  God  saw  him,  at  any 
rate  as  he  saw  himself  when  he  felt  himself  to  be  more 
immediately  under  the  eye  of  God.  And  thus  it  is  that 
it  is  not  David  we  see  even  in  the  most  Davidie  of 
Andrewes's  prayers,  nor  Asaph  in  the  most  Asaphic  of 
them,  nor  Paul  nor  James  nor  Chrysostom  :  but  what 
we  see  there  is  what  was  true  of  Andrewes  in  them  all, 
with  something  added  that  was  in  none  of  them  all,  and  is 
in  no  one  else  but  in  Lancelot  Andrewes  in  all  the  world. 
There  is  a  very  remarkable  argument  carried  on  in 
the  early  part  of  the  Eighty-sixth  Tract  for  the  Times. 
And  the  argument  is  to  the  effect  that  the  Reformation 
was  the  outcome  of  a  universal  call  to  repentance  on  the 
part  of  God,  and  that  on  the  part  of  the  Church  of 
England  it  was  a  response  to  that  call  in  a  gTeat  act  of 
national  humiliation  and  sorrow  for  sin.  And  the 
subtle  and  skilful  writer  of  the  Tract,  having  taken  that 
thesis  in  hand,  goes  on  to  trace  the  proof  of  that  and  the 
effect  of  that  in  the  changes  made  in  the  Collects  of 
the  English  Prayer-Book  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation. 
And  he  points  out  what  he  calls  a  lowering  of  the  voice, 
a  descent  of  the  mind,  and  a  humbling  of  the  heart  of 
the  Church  from  the  high  choral  tone  of  the  missals  and 
the  breviaries  and  the  early  liturgies,  till  the  Book  of 
Common  Prayer  has  become  the  cry  of  a  returning 
prodigal  rather  than  an  expression  of  the  liberty  and  the 
joy  of  obedient  children.  And  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
Bishop  Andrewes  is  a  true  son  of  the  English  Church  in 
this  respect.  He  is  at  his  best  in  repentance  and  con- 
fession. He  prays  and  praises  in  many  places  like  a 
son  also.  But  like  volcanic  rock  thrusting  itself  up 
through  a  harvest  field,  so  does  Andrewes's  acute  and 
abiding  remorse  for  sin  pierce  up  through  his  finest  and 
fullest  psalms  of  thanksgiving.     Andrewes  comes  again 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  101 

with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him,  but  all 
his  harvest  field  has  been  sown  in  tears,  and  so  reaped, 
and  so  gathered  in,  and  so  garnered,  till  it  is  the  bread 
of  tears.  '  His  piety  has  not  softened  his  heart,'  says 
Mark  Pattison  in  a  cruel  and  revengeful  passage.  But 
Andrewes  would  have  said  with  John  Foxe  that  what 
his  piety  had  not  done  his  impiety  had  completely 
accomplished.  I  owe  far  more  to  my  sins,  says  the 
old  martyrologist,  than  I  owe  to  my  good  works. 
Andrewes  has  three  Acts  of  Confession  in  his  Latin 
Devotions,  and  all  three  are  out  of  the  same  still  broken 
heart.  But  the  second  of  the  three,  beginning  with — 
'  O  God,  Thou  knowcst  my  foolishness,' — it  exceeds. 
I  shall  not  touch  it.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  examples 
out  of  it.  The  page  would  run  blood  if  I  broke  off  a 
single  sentence  of  it.  Only,  if  ever  God  got  at  the  hands 
of  a  sinful  man  a  sacrifice  that  satisfied  Him  and  made 
Him  say  on  the  spot,  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,  it  was 
surely  in  Lancelot  Andrcwcs's  closet,  and  after  that 
great  Act  of  Confession. 

One  of  the  acknowledged  masters  of  the  spiritual 
life  warns  us  against  '  an  unthcological  devotion.  True 
spirituality,'  he  insists,  '  has  always  been  orthodox.' 
And  the  readers  of  the  Grammar  of  Assent  will  remember 
with  what  masterly  power  and  with  what  equal 
eloquence  it  is  there  set  forth  that  the  theology  of  the 
Creeds  and  of  the  Catechisms,  when  it  is  rightly  under- 
stood and  properly  employed,  appeals  to  the  heart 
quite  as  much  as  to  the  head,  to  the  imagination  quite  as 
much  as  to  the  understanding.  And  we  cannot  study 
Andrewes's  book,  his  closet  confession  of  his  faith 
especially,  without  discovering  what  a  majesty,  what  a 
massiveness,  what  a  depth,  and  what  a  strength,  as 
well  as  what  an  evangelical  fervour  and  heartsomeness 


102  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

his  theology  has  given  to  his  devotional  life.  Take  in 
illustration  this  profound  apostrophe — the  sum  of  so 
much  that  is  contained  in  the  Devotions :  '  Essence 
beyond  essence :  Essence  everywhere,  and  wholly 
everywhere  !  '  Let  the  intellect  and  the  imagination 
take  that  of  God  truly,  fully,  and  long  enough  up,  and 
forthwith  Andrewes's  words  will  take  rank  not  un- 
worthily with  John's  words,  '  No  man  hath  seen  God  at 
any  time,'  and  with  Paul's  words,  '  Dwelling  in  the  light 
which  no  man  can  approach  unto.'  To  some  minds 
those  three  words  in  which  Andrewes  describes  the 
Divine  Nature  will  recall  Jacob  Behmen  and  will  flash 
a  new  light  on  many  an  old  expression  of  the  Scriptures 
and  the  Catechisms  and  the  Creeds.  Let  any  devout 
and  thoughtful  man  take  up  Andrewes's  confession  of 
faith  for  the  Fourth  Day  imaginatively  and  affection- 
ately, and  let  each  strong  heaven-laden  word  be  meditated 
and  prayed  over,  and  he  will  experience  in  himself  what 
is  meant  by  the  power  and  the  profitableness  of  a  theo- 
logical devotion.  '  I  believe  in  the  Father's  loving- 
kindness  ;  in  the  Almighty's  saving  power ;  in  the 
Creator's  providence  for  guarding,  ruling,  perfecting  the 
universe  ;  in  Jesus,  for  salvation  ;  in  Christ,  for  the 
anointing  of  his  Holy  Sj^irit ;  in  the  only  begotten  Son, 
for  adoption  ;  in  the  Lord,  for  His  care  as  our  Master  ; 
in  His  conception  and  birth,  for  the  cleansing  of  our 
unclean  conception  and  birth ;  in  His  sufferings,  en- 
dured that  we,  whose  due  they  were,  might  not  suffer  ; 
in  His  cross,  for  the  curse  of  the  law  removed  ;  in  His 
death,  for  the  sting  of  death  taken  away  ;  in  His  descent 
whither  we  ought,  that  we  might  not  go ;  in  His 
resurrection,  as  the  first  fruits  of  them  that  sleep  ;  in 
His  ascension,  to  prepare  a  place  for  us  ;  in  His  sitting, 
to  appear  and  to  intercede  for  us  ;    in  His  return,  to 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  103 

take  unto  Him  His  own  ;  in  His  judgment,  to  render  to 
every  man  according  to  his  deeds  ;  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
for  power  from  on  high,  transforming  unto  sanctity  from 
without  and  invisibly,  yet  effectually  and  evidently ; 
in  the  Church,  a  body  mystical  of  those  called  out  of  the 
whole  world  into  a  commonwealth  of  faith  and  holiness  ; 
in  the  communion  of  saints,  members  of  this  body,  a 
partaking  with  one  another  of  holy  things,  for  assurance 
of  the  remission  of  sins,  for  hope  of  resurrection  and 
translation  to  life  everlasting.'  In  the  Grammar  of 
Assent  its  author  says  that  for  himself  he  has  ever  felt 
the  Athanasian  Creed  to  be  the  most  devotional  formulary 
to  which  Christianity  has  given  birth.  We  certainly  feel 
something  not  unlike  that  when  Andrewes  takes  up  the 
Apostles'  Creed,  or  the  Nicene  Creed,  or  the  Life  of  our 
Lord,  or  His  Names,  or  His  Titles,  or  His  Attributes,  or 
His  Offices.  When  Andrewes  takes  up  any  of  these 
things  into  his  intellect,  imagination,  and  heart,  he  has 
already  provided  himself  and  his  readers  with  another 
great  prayer  and  another  great  psalm.  So  true  is  it 
that  all  true  theology  is  directly  and  richly  and 
evangelically  devotional. 

No  one  can  have  any  idea  of  the  power  and  the  beauty, 
the  breadth  and  at  the  same  time  the  particularity  of 
Andrewes's  intercessions,  who  has  not  for  long  made 
use  of  them  as  the  coal  of  this  so  much  neglected  altar 
in  his  own  devotional  life.  William  Law  is  always 
insisting  on  particulars,  and  instances,  and  specifications  ; 
on  names  of  people,  names  of  places,  and  names  of 
things  in  all  prayer,  and  especially  in  intercessory  prayer. 
And,  even  with  Law  himself  open  before  me,  I  know 
no  master  of  instances  and  particulars  in  intercessory 
prayer  like  Andrewes.  Those  who  have  not  discovered 
the  Devotions  have  a  great   start  forward   still  before 


104  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

them  when  they  begin  to  make  constant  use  of  that 
great  book.  I  shall  rejoice  if  these  weak  words  of  mine 
shall  succeed  in  persuading  even  one  man  to  take 
Andrewes  for  his  teacher  and  his  pattern  in  his  life  of 
intercessory  prayer. 

And  then  his  thanksgivings.  Read  them,  sing  them, 
carry  them  about  with  you,  drink  in  their  spirit,  and 
offer  your  own  thanksgivings  on  their  noble  plan.  The 
Thanksgiving  for  the  Fifth  Day  is  an  absolutely  imique 
piece  of  sacred  song.  It  is  an  all-embracing,  absolutely 
exhaustive,  autobiographic  psalm.  It  is  written  by  a 
man  of  God  for  God  alone  to  read  and  to  hear.  And 
as  we  are  chosen  and  privileged  to  read  it  and  to  hear  it 
we  come  to  understand  something  of  the  secret  life  of  a 
man  who  was  said  to  spend  five  hours  of  the  day  sometimes 
over  a  prayer  and  a  psalm.  We  ourselves  will  spend  as 
many  hours,  and  we  will  not  be  done  with  our  praise, 
when  we  have  learned  Andrewes's  divine  art  of  writing 
and  reading  our  own  autobiography  to  God.  '  O  God, 
for  my  existence,  my  life,  my  reason  ;  for  nurture,  pro- 
tection, guidance,  education,  civil  rights,  religion  ;  for 
thy  gifts  to  me  of  grace,  nature,  worldly  good  ;  for 
redemption,  regeneration,  instruction  in  the  truth  ;  for 
my  call,  recall,  yea,  many  calls  all  through  life  ;  for  Thy 
forbearance,  longsuffering,  long  longsuffering  toward  me, 
even  until  now  ;  for  all  good  things  received,  for  all 
successes  granted  to  me,  for  all  good  deeds  I  have  been 
enabled  to  do  ;  for  my  parents  honest  and  good,  for 
teachers  kind,  for  benefactors  never  to  be  forgotten, 
for  religious  intimates  so  congenial  and  so  helpful,  for 
hearers  thoughtful,  friends  true  and  sincere,  servants 
faithful ;  for  all  who  have  helped  me  by  their  writings, 
sermons,  conversations,  prayers,  examples,  rebukes,  and 
even  injuries  ;    for  all  these,  and  for  all  others  which  I 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  105 

know,  and  which  I  know  not,  open,  hidden,  remembered, 
forgotten  ; — what  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all 
His  benefits  ?  '  And,  then,  on  an  altogether  other  key, 
An  Act  of  Thanksgiving  in  the  Latin  Part.  '  If  I  were 
compelled  to  make  a  choice,'  says  Dr.  Cazenove,  '  I 
should  select  the  Act  of  Thanksgiving.'  Before  I  knew 
Dr.  Cazenove's  choice,  I  find  I  had  already  spoken  of 
it  as  '  that  magnificent  Act  of  Thanksgiving.  Surely 
the  noblest  service  of  that  kind  that  ever  rose  from 
earth  to  heaven.  Yes,  it  is  wholly  worthy  to  be  taken 
up  word  for  word  by  the  great  multitude  that  no  man 
can  number.  They  cannot  sing  a  better  song.  It  is  in 
every  word  of  it  worthy  of  them  and  of  the  place  where 
they  stand.'  And  if  any  man  think  that  too  much  to 
say  about  a  book  whose  very  title  he  has  never  heard 
till  now,  let  him  begin  from  now  to  learn  to  thank  God 
with  Lancelot  Andrewes.  Those  who  are  staggered  and 
offended  to  be  told  that  any  man  should  spend  hours 
upon  hours  alone  with  himself  and  with  his  Maker  should 
study  such  prayers  and  psalms  as  those  of  Andrewes  ; 
and  if  they  once  enter  into  their  genius,  and  come  under 
their  spell,  they  will  have  discovered  a  new  way  of 
redeeming  and  laying  out  the  dregs  of  their  days. 

In  trying  to  account  for  Andrewes  having  composed 
the  most  finished  parts  of  his  Devotions  in  Greek,  Mr. 
Hutton,  Dean  Stanhope's  editor,  says  that  the  compound 
and  emphatic  words  of  that  language  greatly  strengthen 
the  ideas  they  convey  to  us,  and  thus  make  a  deeper 
impression  on  our  minds.  Now  no  adequate  justice  can 
at  all  be  done  to  Andrewcs's  Devotions  till  attention  has 
been  called  to  the  power  and  the  impressiveness  of  some 
of  his  single  words  and  short  sentences.  The  weight,  the 
concentration,  the  solidity,  and  the  impact  of  the  style 
is  one  of  the  foremost  features  of  Andrewes's  Devotions. 


106  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

I  have  never  forgotten  the  impression  that  one  word  of 
his  in  one  of  his  confessions  of  sin  made  on  my  own 
imagination  and  heart  the  first  time  it  leaped  out  upon 
me.  '  I  have  neglected  thee,  O  God  !  '  Andrewes  cried, 
and  I  trembled  as  I  heard  him  cry  it.  And  I  have 
never  come  upon  that  awful  word  from  that  day  to  this 
without  a  shudder.  It  is  this  neglect  of  God  that  makes 
so  many  men  infidels  and  atheists  and  outcasts.  You 
neglect  God  till  you  come  to  say,  and  that  not  without 
some  reason,  that  there  simply  cannot  be  such  and  such 
a  God  else  it  would  be  a  sheer  impossibility  that  you 
could  have  neglected  Him  as  you  have  done.  You  look 
within,  and  you  look  around,  and  you  see  yourself  and 
all  men  absolutely  pushing  God  aside  till  it  is  as  good 
as  demonstrated  to  you  that  there  can  be  no  God. 
'  God,'  said  John  Donne  in  a  sermon  that  Andrewes  may 
very  well  have  heard,  '  God  is  like  us  in  this  also,  that 
He  takes  it  worse  to  be  slighted,  to  be  neglected,  to  be 
left  out,  than  to  be  actually  injured.  Our  inconsideration, 
our  not  thinking  of  God  in  our  actions,  offends  Him 
more  than  our  sins.'  '  Pardon,'  cries  Bishop  Wilson 
in  his  Sacra  Privata,  '  that  I  have  passed  so  many  days 
without  admiring,  without  acknowledging  and  confessing 
Thy  wonderful  goodness  to  the  most  unworthy  of  Thy 
servants.  Preserve  in  my  soul,  O  God,  such  a  constant 
and  clear  sense  of  my  obligations  to  Thee,  that  upon 
every  new  receipt  of  Thy  favour,  I  may  immediately 
turn  my  eyes  to  Him  from  Whom  cometh  my  salvation.' 
And  in  an  evening  prayer  that  Andrewes  draws  out  for  a 
family  in  the  Instituiiones  Pice,  he  makes  them  all  say, 
*  We  have  fled  from  Thee  seeking  us  :  neglected  Thee 
loving  us  :  stopped  our  ears  to  Thee  speaking  to  us  : 
turned  our  backs  to  Thee  reaching  Thy  hand  to  us  : 
forgotten  Thee  doing  good  to  us  :    and  despised  Thee 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  107 

correcting  us.'  And  then  in  the  Manual  for  the  Sick 
he  makes  the  dying  man  say  :  '  I  have  not  studied  to 
seek  and  know  Thee  as  I  ought  to  do.  Knowing  Thee, 
I  have  not  glorified  Thee,  nor  given  thanks  to  Thee 
accordingly.'  And  again  when  Andrewes  cries  in 
another  confession, — '  I  have  withstood  Thee,  O  God,' 
that  makes  almost  as  terrible  an  impression  on  my 
mind,  as  well  it  may.  '  I  will  confess  my  iniquity,  for 
I  have  transgressed,  and  neglected  Thee,  O  Lord.  Set 
not  my  misdeeds  before  Thee,  nor  my  life  in  the  light 
of  Thy  countenance.  I  have  withstood  Thee,  Lord, 
but  I  return  unto  Thee.  I  take  with  me  words,  and  I 
return  unto  Thee  and  say.  Take  away  all  iniquity,  and 
receive  me  graciously.'  And  still,  after  all  that,  we  see 
Andrewes  still  struggling  with  some  '  relics  of  reluctancy,' 
to  the  end  of  his  seraphic  old  age. 

'  I  am  made  of  sin,'  Andrewes  cries  out  in  one  of  his 
great  acts  of  confession.  '  I  have  sinned,  and  of  a  truth 
I  am  made  of  sin,  and  my  whole  life  maketh  it  manifest.' 
Only  those  out  of  whose  broken  heart  the  echo  comes. 
And  so  am  I ! — only  they  will  believe  that  Bishop  Andrewes 
can  be  in  honest  earnest  and  in  his  sound  senses  when  he 
says  that.  But  they  who  feel  that  to  be  true  of  them- 
selves,— literally  and  absolutely  true  and  far  short  of 
the  truth, — they  will  be  drawn  irresistibly  to  the  man 
who  first  made  such  a  discovery  as  that  in  himself,  and 
who  had  the  truth  and  the  talent  to  put  the  discovery 
into  such  answering  words.  Andrewes  belongs  to  the 
family  of  Abraham,  and  Isaiah,  and  Paul,  and  Neri,  and 
Pascal,  and  Bunyan,  and  Law,  and  all  the  devotional 
succession.  '  I  am  made  of  dust  and  ashes,'  Abraham 
said.  '  From  the  head  to  the  foot  I  am  made  up  of  putri- 
fying  sores,'  said  Isaiah.  '  In  me  there  dwelleth  no  good 
thing,'  said  Paul.     '  Begone,  I  am  a  devil,  and  not  a  man,' 


108  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

said  Philip.  '  I  defy  the  devil  himself  to  equal  me,' 
said  the  author  of  Grace  Abounding.  '  We  are  made  up 
of  falsehood,  duplicity,  and  insincerity,'  said  Pascal, 
'  and  we  cloak  up  these  things  in  ourselves  from  our- 
selves.' '  Man  is  only  a  compound  of  corrujot  and  dis- 
orderly tempers,'  says  William  Law.  '  I  am  made  of 
sin,'  groans  Andrewes,  and  with  that  one  awful  word  he 
lets  us  down  into  the  whole  bottomless  pit  of  sin  and  shame 
and  pain  and  misery  that  is  in  his  own  evil  heart.  '  I 
am  a  burden  to  myself,'  he  continues,  still  on  his  face 
before  God,  '  I  am  a  ruined,  wretched,  excessive  sinner.' 
Nor  are  these  the  mere  ink-horn  terms  of  which  our 
prayer-books  are  full,  or  the  usual  insincere  devotions  of 
which  our  public  worship  is  full.  It  is  the  truth,  it  is  the 
sincerity,  it  is  the  intensity,  it  is  the  absolute  agony  of 
Andrewes's  supremely  sinful  and  supremely  miserable 
heart  that  so  fascinates  us,  and  holds  us,  and  makes  us 
like  clay  in  his  hands. 

Small  is  the  blind  man's  grief  to  theirs  who  see 
Nothing  at  all  but  their  own  misery. 

'  But  I  have  an  Advocate  with  Thee  to  Thee,  and  may  He 
be  the  propitiation  for  my  sins  Who  is  also  the  propiti- 
ation for  the  whole  world.'  As  much  as  to  say  that  the 
whole  world  and  Lancelot  Andrewes  together  will  com- 
plete the  propitiation.  As  much  as  to  say  that  Lancelot 
Andrewes  is  a  whole  guilty  world  in  himself,  and  that  to 
be  the  propitiation  for  Lancelot  Andrewes  is  more  than 
to  redeem  and  restore  the  whole  world  apart  from  him. 
Whom  God  hath  set  forth  to  be  the  propitiation  for  the 
whole  world  and  Lancelot  Andrewes. 

You  Avill  sometimes  see  in  the  wall  of  a  church  or  in 
the  wall  of  a  house  or  in  the  wall  of  a  garden  a  stone  with 
the  smooth  mark  of  the  boring-iron  still  upon  it — the 


BISHOP  ANDREWES  109 

boring-iron  by  means  of  which  the  blast  was  let  in  which 
shattered  the  hard  rock  into  a  thousand  pieces.  And 
many  such  significant  marks  occur  all  up  and  down  the 
Private  Devotions.  '  I  have  perverted  that  which  was 
right,  and  yet  Thou  hast  not  overwhelmed  me  with 
infamy.'  Now,  '  infamy,'  remarkably  enough,  is  the 
very  word  that  an  able  historical  writer  of  our  day  of 
himself  has  applied  to  Andrewes's  share  in  the  Essex 
case.  Sometimes  one  single  sin  will  blast  and  ruin  a 
man's  whole  after-life  to  himself.  Sometimes  one  single 
sin  will  still  leave  its  mark  on  a  man  long  long  after  it 
has  been  forsaken,  repented  of,  atoned  for,  and  forgiven. 
One  single  sin  will  so  explode  and  shatter  his  conscience, 
it  will  so  bruise  and  break  his  heart  into  a  thousand 
pieces,  that  like  one  of  the  Children  of  Israel  a  true  peni- 
tent will  feel  the  taste  of  the  dust  of  the  golden  calf  in 
every  cup  he  ever  after  drinks — in  his  sweetest  as  well 
as  in  his  bitterest  cup.  The  Essex  case  followed  Andrewes 
about  all  his  days,  as  his  drunkenness  followed  Noah,  and 
his  adultery  David,  and  the  sins  of  his  blasphemy  and 
injuriousness  Paul,  and  our  sins  us.  '  God  often  permits 
sin,  even  in  the  elect,'  says  Bishop  Wilson,  '  that  He  may 
make  their  fall  instrumental  to  their  conversion  and  sal- 
vation. We  have  reason  to  bless  God  for  those  sins  that 
awaken  us,  lead  us  to  repentance,  and  make  us  to  love 
much  because  so  much  has  been  forgiven  us.'  '  Where- 
withal a  man  sinneth,'  says  the  Son  of  Sirach, '  by  the  same 
also  shall  he  be  punished.  Thou,  O  God,  tormentest  men 
with  their  own  abominations.'  Or  as  Andrewes  has  it, 
'  Let  not  my  ungodliness  be  for  my  punishment.  De- 
stroy me  not  in  mine  iniquities,  nor  reserve  evil  for  me, 
nor  make  me  a  public  shame.'  We  stumble  at  the  length 
and  at  the  number  of  the  hours  that  Andrewes  spent  every 
day  with  sweating  hands,  but  when  God  begins  to  torment 


110  BISHOP  ANDREWES 

us  with  our  own  abominations,  and  to  make  our  ungodli- 
ness our  punishment,  all  Andrewes's  hours  will  have  flown 
past,  and  we  shall  neither  have  numbered  them  nor 
grudged  them. 

'  I  return  to  my  own  heart,  and  with  all  my  heart  I 
return  to  Thee,  O  God  of  j^enitents,  O  Saviour  of  sinners. 
Evening  by  evening  will  I  return  in  the  innermost  marrow 
of  my  soul.  I  turn  baek  from  my  evil  ways,  I  return 
unto  mine  own  heart,  and  with  my  whole  heart  I  return 
unto  Thee,  saying,  I  know,  O  Lord,  the  plague  of  my 
heart.  Since  the  days  of  my  youth  have  I  been  in  a  great 
trespass  unto  this  day,  and  I  cannot  stand  before  Thee, 
by  reason  of  this.  I  bear  the  brands  of  sin.  I  conceal 
nothing.  I  make  no  excuses.  I  have  destroyed  myself. 
I  am  without  plea.  Thou  art  just  in  all  that  has  come 
upon  me.  Thou  hast  done  right,  but  I  have  done  wickedly. 
I  remember  my  sins  in  the  bitterness  of  my  soul.  I  have 
no  rest  because  of  them.  I  turn  away  from  them  and 
groan.  I  despise  and  hate  myself.  Forgive  me,  for  I 
knew  not,  truly  I  knew  not  what  I  did  when  I  sinned 
against  Thee.  I  can  sin  much,  but  I  cannot  return  from 
my  sins.  Only,  I  will  always  remember  my  latter  end. 
I  will  give  myself  up  to  prayer.  I  will  give  up  the  rest 
of  my  life  to  repentance,  because  Thou  art  waiting  for 
my  full  conversion.'  How  his  words  transfix  us  !  How 
our  past  comes  baek  upon  us  at  his  words  !  How  our 
hearts  melt  in  us  as  Andrewes  takes  us  by  the  hand,  and 
as  we  kneel  beside  him  !  The  secret  of  the  Lord  and  His 
best  power  are  with  this  penitent  in  a  most  singular  way, 
till  that  wonderful  book  of  his  in  every  page  of  it  pierces 
us,  solemnises  us,  and  subdues  us  to  tears  and  to  prayer 
and  to  obedience  as  no  other  book  of  its  kind  has  ever 
done.  Every  page,  almost  every  line,  of  the  Private 
Devotions  has  some  strong  word  in  it,   some  startling 


BISHOP  ANDRE  WES  111 

word,  some  selected,  compounded,  and  compacted  word, 
some  heart-laden  clause,  some  scriptural  or  liturgical 
expression  set  iu  a  blaze  of  new  light  and  life,  and  ever 
after  to  be  filled  with  new  power  as  we  employ  it  in  our 
own  prayers  and  praises.  It  is  true  genius  ;  it  is  a 
special  gift  of  God  and  a  special  grace  of  His  Spirit  to  be 
able  in  this  way  to  make  the  old  and  familiar  language 
of  devotion  so  new,  so  quick,  so  powerful,  and  so  prevail- 
ing, as  Andrewes  makes  it  in  tliis  fine  book  of  his  which 
is  now  open  before  us. 


SAMUEL   RUTHERFORD 

Samuel  Rutherford,  the  author  of  the  seraphic  Letters, 
was  born  in  the  south  of  Scotland  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  1600.  Thomas  Goodwin  was  born  in  England  in 
the  same  year,  Robert  Leighton  in  1611,  Richard  Baxter 
in  1615,  John  Owen  in  1616,  John  Bunyan  in  1628,  and 
John  Howe  in  1630.  A  little  vellum-covered  volume 
now  lies  open  before  me,  the  title-page  of  which  runs 
thus  :  '  Joshua  Redivivus,  or  Mr.  Rutherford's  Letters, 
now  published  for  the  use  of  the  people  of  God  :  but  more 
particularly  for  those  who  now  are,  or  may  afterwards 
be,  put  to  suffering  for  Christ  and  His  cause.  By  a  well- 
wisher  to  the  work  and  to  the  people  of  God.  Printed  in 
the  year  1664.'  That  is  all.  It  would  not  have  been 
safe  in  1664  to  say  more.  There  is  no  editor's  name  on 
the  title-page,  no  publisher's  name,  and  no  place  of 
printing  or  of  publication.  Only  two  texts  of  forewarning 
and  reassuring  Scripture,  and  then  the  year  of  grace  1664. 
Joshua  Redivivus  :  That  is  to  say,  Moses'  spy  and 
pioneer,  Moses'  successor  and  the  captain  of  the  Lord's 
covenanted  host  come  back  again.  A  second  Joshua  sent 
to  Scotland  to  go  before  God's  people  in  that  land  and 
in  that  day  ;  a  spy  who  would  both  by  his  experience  and 
by  his  testimony  cheer  and  encourage  the  suffering  people 
of  God.  For  all  this  Samuel  Rutherford  truly  was. 
As  he  said  of  himself  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Hugh  Mackail, 
he  was  indeed  a  spy  sent  out  to  make  experiment  upon 


114  SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD 

the  life  of  silence  and  separation,  banishment  and 
martyrdom,  and  to  bring  back  a  report  of  that  life  for 
the  vindication  of  Christ  and  for  the  support  and  encour- 
agement of  His  people.  It  was  a  happy  thought  of 
Rutherford's  first  editor,  Robert  M'Ward,  his  old  West- 
minster Assembly  secretary,  to  put  at  the  top  of  his 
title-page,  Joshua  risen  again  from  the  dead,  or,  Mr. 
Rutherford's  Letters  written  from  his  place  of  banish- 
ment in  Aberdeen. 

In  selecting  his  twelve  spies  Moses  went  on  the  principle 
of  choosing  the  best  and  the  ablest  men  he  could  lay  hold 
of  in  all  Israel.  And  in  selecting  Samuel  Rutherford 
to  be  the  first  sufferer  for  His  covenanted  people  in  Scot- 
land, our  Lord  took  a  man  who  was  already  famous  for 
his  character  and  his  services.  For  no  man  of  his  age 
in  broad  Scotland  stood  higher  as  a  scholar,  a  theologian, 
a  controversialist,  a  preacher  and  a  very  saint  than 
Samuel  Rutherford.  He  had  been  settled  at  Anwoth  on 
the  Sol  way  in  1627,  and  for  the  next  nine  years  he  had 
lived  such  a  noble  life  among  his  people  as  to  make 
Anwoth  famous  as  long  as  Jesus  Christ  has  a  Church 
in  Scotland.  As  we  say  Bunyan  and  Bedford,  Baxter 
and  Kidderminster,  Newton  and  Olney,  Edwards  and 
Northampton,  Boston  and  Ettrick,  M'Cheyne  and 
Dundee,  so  we  say  Rutherford  and  Anwoth. 

His  talents,  his  industry,  his  scholarship,  his  preaching 
power,  his  pastoral  solicitude  and  his  saintly  character 
all  combined  to  make  Rutherford  a  marked  man  both 
to  the  friends  and  to  the  enemies  of  the  truth.  His 
talents  and  his  industry  while  he  was  yet  a  student 
in  Edinburgh  had  carried  him  to  the  top  of  his  classes, 
and  all  his  da3^s  he  could  write  in  Latin  better  than 
either  in  Scotch  or  English.  His  habits  of  work  at 
Anwoth    soon    became    a    very    proverb.     His    people 


SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD  115 

boasted  that  their  minister  was  always  at  his  books, 
always  among  his  parishioners,  always  at  their  sick- 
beds and  their  death-beds,  always  catechising  their 
children,  and  always  alone  with  his  God.  And  then  the 
matchless  preaching  of  the  parish  church  of  Anwoth. 
We  can  gather  what  made  the  Sabbaths  of  Anwoth  so 
memorable  both  to  Rutherford  and  to  his  people  from 
the  books  we  still  have  from  those  great  Sabbaths : 
The  Trial  and  the  Triumph  of  Faith ;  Christ  Dying  and 
Drawing  Sinners  to  Himself;  and  suchlike  masterly 
discourses.  Rutherford  was  the  '  most  moving  and  the 
most  affectionate  of  preachers,'  a  preacher  determined 
to  know  nothing  but  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified, 
but  not  so  much  crucified,  as  crucified  and  risen  again — 
crucified  indeed,  but  now  glorified.  Rutherford's  life 
for  his  people  at  Anwoth  had  something  altogether 
superhuman  and  unearthly  about  it.  His  correspondents 
in  his  own  day  and  his  critics  in  our  day  stumble  at  his 
too  intense  devotion  to  his  charge  ;  he  lived  for  his  con- 
gregation, they  tell  us,  almost  to  the  neglect  of  his  wife 
and  children.  But  by  the  time  of  his  banishment  his 
home  was  desolate,  his  wife  and  children  were  in  the 
grave.  And  all  the  time  and  thought  and  love  they  had 
got  from  him  while  they  were  alive  had,  now  that  they 
were  dead,  returned  with  new  and  intensified  devotion 
to  his  people  and  his  parish. 

Pair  Anwoth  by  the  Solway, 

To  me  thou  still  art  dear^ 
E'en  from  the  verge  of  heaven 

I  drop  for  thee  a  tear. 

O  !  if  one  soul  from  Anwoth 

Meet  me  at  God's  right  hand. 
My  heaven  will  be  two  heavens 

In  Immanuel's  Land. 


116  SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD 

This,  then,  was  the  spy  chosen  by  Jesus  Christ  to  go 
out  first  of  all  the  ministers  of  Scotland  into  the  life 
of  banishment  in  that  day,  so  as  to  try  its  fords  and 
taste  its  vineyards,  and  to  report  to  God's  straitened 
and  persecuted  jaeople  at  home. 

To  begin  with,  it  must  always  be  remembered  that 
Rutherford  was  not  laid  in  irons  in  Aberdeen,  or  cast 
into  a  dungeon.  He  was  simply  deprived  of  his  pulpit 
and  of  his  liberty  to  preach,  and  was  sentenced  to  live 
in  silence  in  the  town  of  Aberdeen.  Like  Dante,  another 
great  spy  of  God's  providence  and  grace,  Rutherford  was 
less  a  prisoner  than  an  exile.  But  if  any  man  thinks 
that  simply  to  be  an  exile  is  a  small  punishment,  or  a 
light  cross,  let  him  read  the  psalms  and  prophecies  of 
Babylon,  the  Divine  Comedy,  and  Rutherford's  Letters. 
Yes,  banishment  was  banishment ;  exile  was  exile ; 
silent  Sabbaths  were  silent  Sabbaths  ;  and  a  borrowed 
fireside  with  all  its  willing  heat  was  still  a  borrowed  fire- 
side ;  and,  spite  of  all  that  the  best  people  of  Aberdeen 
could  do  for  Samuel  Rutherford,  he  felt  the  friendliest 
stairs  of  that  city  to  be  very  steep  to  his  feet,  and  its 
best  bread  to  be  very  salt  in  his  mouth. 

But,  with  all  that,  Samuel  Rutherford  would  have 
been  but  a  blind  and  unprofitable  spy  for  the  best  people 
of  God  in  Scotland,  for  Marion  M'Naught,  and  Lady 
Kenmure,  and  Lady  Culross,  for  the  Cardonesses,  father, 
and  mother,  and  son,  and  for  Hugh  Mackail,  and  such 
like,  if  he  had  tasted  nothing  more  bitter  than  borrowed 
bread  in  Aberdeen,  and  climbed  nothing  steeper  than  a 
granite  stair.  '  Paul  had  need,'  Rutherford  writes  to 
Lady  Kenmure,  '  of  the  devil's  service  to  buffet  him,  and 
far  more,  you  and  I.'  I  am  downright  afraid  to  go  on 
to  tell  you  how  Satan  was  sent  to  buffet  Samuel  Ruther- 
ford in  his  banishment,  and  how  he  was  sifted  as  wheat 


SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD  117 

is  sifted  in  his  exile.  I  would  not  expose  such  a  saint 
of  God  to  every  eye,  but  I  look  for  readers  who  know 
something  of  the  plague  of  their  own  hearts,  and  who 
are  comforted  in  their  banishment  and  battle  by  nothing 
more  than  when  they  are  assured  that  they  are  not  alone 
in  the  deep  darkness.  '  When  Christian  had  travelled 
in  .this  disconsolate  condition  for  some  time  he  thought 
he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  as  going  before  him  and 
saying,  "  Though  I  walk  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death  I  zvillfear  no  ill,  for  Thou  art  tvith  me."  Then  he 
was  glad,  and  that  for  these  reasons  : — Firstly,  because  he 
gathered  from  thence  that  some  one  who  feared  God  was 
in  this  valley  as  well  as  himself.  Secondly,  for  that  he 
perceived  that  God  was  with  them  though  in  that  dark 
and  dismal  state  ;  and  why  not,  thought  he,  with  me  ? 
Thirdly,  for  that  he  hoped,  could  he  overtake  them,  to 
have  company  by  and  by.'  And,  in  like  manner,  I  am 
certain  that  it  will  encourage  and  save  from  despair 
some  who  now  read  this  if  I  just  report  to  them  some 
of  the  discoveries  and  experiences  of  himself  that  Samuel 
Rutherford  made  among  the  siftings  and  buffetings  of 
his  Aberdeen  exile.  Writing  to  Lady  Culross,  he  says  : 
'  O  my  guiltiness,  the  follies  of  my  youth  and  the  neglects 
of  my  calling,  they  all  do  stare  me  in  the  face  here  ;  .  .  . 
the  world  hath  sadly  mistaken  me  :  no  man  knoweth 
what  guiltiness  is  in  me.'  And  to  Lady  Boyd,  speaking 
of  some  great  lessons  he  had  learnt  in  the  school  of 
adversity,  he  says :  '  In  the  third  place,  I  have  seen  here 
my  abominable  vileness,  and  it  is  such  that  if  I  were 
well  known  no  one  in  all  the  kingdom  would  ask  me  how 
I  do.  ...  I  am  a  deeper  hypocrite  and  a  shallower 
professor  than  any  one  could  believe.  Madam,  pity  me, 
the  chief  of  sinners.'  And,  again,  to  the  Laird  of 
Carlton  :    '  Woe,  woe  is  me,  that  men  should  think  there 


118  SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD 

is  anything  in  me.  The  house-devils  that  keep  me 
company  and  this  sink  of  corruption  make  me  to  carry 
low  sails.  .  .  .  But,  howbeit  I  am  a  wretched  captive 
of  sin,  yet  my  Lord  can  hew  heaven  out  of  worse  timber 
than  I  am,  if  worse  there  be.'  And  to  Lady  Kenmure  : 
'  I  am  somebody  in  the  books  of  my  friends,  .  .  .  but 
there  are  armies  of  thoughts  within  me,  saying  the 
contrary,  and  laughing  at  the  mistakes  of  my  many 
friends.  Oh  !  if  my  inner  side  were  only  seen  !  '  Ah, 
no  !  my  brethren,  no  land  is  so  fearful  to  them  that 
are  sent  to  search  it  out  as  their  own  heart.  '  The  land,' 
said  the  ten  spies,  '  is  a  land  that  eateth  up  the  in- 
habitants thereof  ;  the  cities  are  walled  up  to  heaven, 
and  very  great,  and  the  children  of  Anak  dwell  in  them. 
We  were  in  their  sight  as  grasshoppers,  and  so  we  were 
in  our  own  sight.'  Ah,  no  !  no  stair  is  so  steep  as  the 
stair  of  sanctification,  no  bread  is  so  salt  as  that  which 
is  baked  for  a  man  of  God  out  of  the  wild  oats  of  his  past 
sin  and  his  present  sinfulness.  Even  Joshua  and  Caleb, 
who  brought  back  a  good  report  of  the  land,  did  not 
deny  that  the  children  of  Anak  were  there,  or  that  their 
walls  went  up  to  heaven,  or  that  they,  the  spies,  were  as 
grasshoppers  before  their  foes  :  Caleb  and  Joshua  only 
said  that,  in  spite  of  all  that,  if  the  Lord  delighted  in  His 
people,  He  both  could  and  would  give  them  a  land 
flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  And  be  it  recorded  and 
remembered  to  his  credit  and  his  praise  that,  with  all 
his  self-discoveries  and  self-accusings,  Rutherford  did 
not  utter  one  single  word  of  doubt  or  despair  ;  so  far  from 
that  was  he,  that  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Hugh  Mackail 
he  tells  us  that  some  of  his  correspondents  have  written 
to  him  that  he  is  possibly  too  joyful  under  the  cross. 
Blunt  old  Knockbrex,  for  one,  wrote  to  his  old  minister 
to  restrain  somewhat  his  ecstasy.     So  true  was  it,  what 


SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD  119 

Rutheriord  said  of  himself  to  David  Dickson,  that  he 
was  '  made  up  of  extremes.'  So  he  was,  for  I  know  no 
man  among  all  my  masters  in  personal  religion  who 
unites  greater  extremes  in  himself  than  Samuel  Ruther- 
ford. Who  weeps  like  Rutherford  over  his  banishment 
from  Anwoth,  while  all  the  time  who  is  so  feasted  in 
Christ's  palaee  in  Aberdeen  ?  Who  loathes  himself  like 
Rutherford  ?  Not  Bunyan,  not  Brodie,  not  Brea,  not 
Boston  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  who  is  so  transported 
and  lost  to  himself  in  the  beauty  and  sweetness  of  Christ  ? 
As  we  read  his  raptures  we  almost  say  with  cautious 
old  Knockbrex,  that  possibly  Rutherford  is  somewhat 
too  full  of  ecstasy  for  this  fallen,  still  unsanctified,  and 
still  so  slippery  world. 

It  took  two  men  to  carry  back  the  cluster  of  grapes 
the  spies  cut  down  at  Eshcol,  and  there  is  sweetness  and 
strength  and  ecstasy  enough  for  ten  men  in  any  one  of 
Rutherford's  heaven-inebriated  Letters.  '  See  what  the 
land  is,  and  whether  it  be  fat  or  lean,  and  bring  back  of 
the  fruits  of  the  land.'  This  was  the  order  given  by 
Moses  to  the  twelve  spies.  And,  whether  the  land  was 
fat  or  lean,  Moses  and  all  Israel  could  judge  for  them- 
selves when  the  spies  laid  down  their  load  of  grapes  at 
Moses'  feet.  '  I  can  report  nothing  but  good  of  the 
land,'  said  Joshua  Redivivus,  as  he  sent  back  such 
clusters  of  its  vineyards  and  such  pots  of  its  honey  to 
Hugh  Mackail,  to  Marion  M'Naught,  and  to  Lady 
Kenmui'c.  And  then,  when  all  his  letters  were  collected 
and  published,  never  surely,  since  the  Epistles  of  Paul 
and  the  Gospel  and  Revelation  of  John,  had  such 
clusters  of  encouragement  and  such  exhilarating  cordials 
been  laid  to  the  lips  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 

Our  old  authors  tell  us  that  after  the  northern  tribes 
had    tasted    the    warmth    and    the    sweetness    of    the 


120  SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD 

wines  of  Italy  they  could  take  no  rest  tiJl  they 
had  conquered  and  taken  possession  of  that  land  of 
sunshine  where  such  grapes  so  plentifully  grew.  And 
how  many  hearts  have  been  carried  captive  with  the 
beauty  and  the  grace  of  Christ,  and  with  the  land  of 
Immanuel,  where  He  drinks  wine  with  the  saints  in  His 
Father's  house,  by  the  reading  of  Samuel  Rutherford's 
Letters,  the  day  of  the  Lord  will  alone  declare. 

O  Christ !  He  is  the  Fountain, 

The  deep  sweet  VV^ell  of  love  ! 
The  streams  on  earth  I  've  tasted. 

More  deep  I  '11  drink  above. 
There  to  an  ocean  fulness 

His  mercy  doth  expand, 
And  glory^  glory  dwelleth 

In  Immanuel's  Land. 

A  story  is  told  in  Wodrow  of  an  English  merchant  who 
had  occasion  to  visit  Scotland  on  business  about  the  year 
1650.  On  his  return  home  his  friends  asked  him  what 
news  he  had  brought  with  him  from  the  north.  '  Good 
news,'  he  said  ;  '  for  when  I  went  to  St.  Andrews  I  heard 
a  sweet,  majestic-looking  man,  and  he  showed  me  the 
majesty  of  God.  After  him  I  heard  a  little  fair  man,  and 
he  showed  me  the  loveliness  of  Christ.  I  then  went  to 
Irvine,  where  I  heard  a  well-favoured,  proper  old  man 
with  a  long  beard,  and  that  man  showed  me  all  my  own 
heart.'  The  little  fair  man  who  showed  this  English 
merchant  the  loveliness  of  Christ  was  Samuel  Rutherford, 
and  the  proper  old  man  who  showed  him  all  his  own 
heart  was  David  Dickson.  Dr.  M'Crie  says  of  David 
Dickson  that  he  was  singularly  successful  in  dissecting 
the  human  heart  and  in  winning  souls  to  the  Redeemer, 
and  all  that  we  know  of  Dickson  bears  out  that  high 
estimate.     When  he  was  presiding  on  one  occasion  at 


SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD  121 

the  ordination  of  a  young  minister,  whom  he  had  had 
some  hand  in  bringing  up,  among  the  advices  the  old 
minister  gave  the  new  beginner  were  these  : — That  he 
should  remain  unmarried  for  four  years,  in  order  to  give 
himself  up  wholly  to  his  great  work  ;  and  that  both  in 
preaching  and  in  prayer  he  should  be  as  succinct  as 
possible  so  as  not  to  weary  his  hearers  ;  and,  lastly, 
'  Oh,  study  God  well  and  your  own  heart.'  We  have 
five  letters  of  Rutherford's  to  this  master  of  the  human 
heart,  and  it  is  in  the  third  of  these  that  Rutherford 
opens  his  heart  to  his  father  in  the  Gospel,  and  tells  him 
that  he  is  made  up  of  extremes. 

In  every  way  that  was  so.  It  is  a  common  remark 
with  all  Rutherford's  biographers  and  editors  and  com- 
mentators what  extremes  met  in  that  little  fair  man. 
The  finest  thing  that  has  ever  been  written  on  Rutherford 
is  Dr.  Taylor  Innes's  lecture  in  the  Evangelical  Succession 
series.  And  the  intellectual  extremes  that  met  in 
Rutherford  are  there  set  forth  by  Rutherford's  acute  and 
sympathetic  critic  at  some  length.  For  one  thing,  the 
greatest  speculative  freedom  and  theological  breadth 
met  in  Rutherford  with  the  greatest  ecclesiastical  hard- 
ness and  narrowness.  I  do  not  know  any  author  of 
that  day,  either  in  England  or  in  Scotland,  either  Prelatist 
or  Puritan,  who  shows  more  imaginative  freedom  and 
speculative  power  than  Rutherford  does  in  his  Christ 
Dying,  unless  it  is  his  still  greater  contemporary,  Thomas 
Goodwin.  And  it  is  with  corresponding  distress  that  we 
read  some  of  Rutherford's  polemical  works,  and  even 
the  polemical  parts  of  his  heavenly  Letters.  There  is 
a  remarkable  passage  in  one  of  his  controversial  books 
that  reminds  us  of  some  of  ShakesjDeare's  own  tributes 
to  England  :  '  I  judge  that  in  England  the  Lord  hath 
many  names  and  a  fair  company  that  shall  stand  at  the 


122  SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD 

side  of  Christ  when  He  shall  render  up  the  kingdom  to 
the  Father  ;  and  that  in  that  renowned  land  there  be 
men  of  all  ranks,  wise,  valorous,  generous,  noble,  heroic, 
faithful,  religious,  gracious,  learned.'  Rutherford's  whole 
passage  is  worthy  to  stand  beside  Shakespeare's  great 
passage  on  '  this  blessed  plot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this 
England.'  But  persecution  from  England  and  con- 
troversy at  home  so  embittered  Rutherford's  sweet  and 
gracious  spirit  that  passages  like  that  are  but  few  and 
far  between.  Only,  let  him  away  out  into  pure  theology, 
and,  especially,  let  him  get  his  wings  on  the  person,  and 
the  work,  and  the  glory  of  Christ,  and  few  theologians 
of  any  age  or  any  school  rise  to  a  larger  air,  or  command 
a  wider  scope,  or  discover  a  clearer  eye  of  speculation 
than  Rutherford,  till  we  feel  exactly  like  the  laird  of 
Glanderston  who,  when  Rutherford  left  a  controversial 
passage  in  a  sermon  and  went  on  to  speak  of  Christ, 
cried  out  in  the  church :  '  Ay,  hold  you  there,  minister ; 
you  are  all  right  there  ! '  A  domestic  controversy  that 
arose  in  the  Church  of  Scotland  towards  the  end  of 
Rutherford's  life  so  separated  Rutherford  from  Dickson 
and  Blair  that  Rutherford  would  not  take  part  with 
Blair,  the  '  sweet,  majestic-looking  man,'  in  the  Lord's 
Supper.  '  Oh,  to  be  above,'  Blair  exclaimed,  '  where 
there  are  no  misunderstandings  !  '  It  was  this  same 
controversy  that  made  John  Livingstone  say  in  a  letter 
to  Blair  that  his  wife  and  he  had  had  more  bitterness 
over  that  dispute  than  ever  they  had  tasted  since  they 
knew  what  bitterness  meant.  Well  might  Rutherford 
say,  on  another  such  occasion  :  '  It  is  hard  when  saints 
rejoice  in  the  sufferings  of  saints,  and  when  the  redeemed 
hurt,  and  go  nigh  to  hate  the  redeemed.'  Watch  and 
pray,  my  brethren,  lest  in  controversy — ephemeral  and 
immaterial  controversy — you  also  go  near  to  hate  and 
hurt  one  another,  as  Rutherford  did. 


SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD  123 

And  then,  what  strength,  combined  with  what  tender- 
ness, there  is  in  Rutherford  !  In  all  my  acquaintance 
with  literature  I  do  not  know  any  author  who  has  two 
books  under  his  name  so  unlike  one  another,  two  books 
that  are  such  a  contrast  to  one  another,  as  Lex  Rex  and 
the  Letters.  A  more  firmly  built  argument  than  Lex 
Rex,  an  argument  so  clamped  together  with  the  iron 
bands  of  scholastic  and  legal  lore,  is  not  to  be  met  with 
in  any  English  book  ;  a  more  lawyer-looking  production 
is  not  in  all  the  Advocates'  Library  than  just  Lex  Rex. 
There  is  as  much  emotion  in  the  multiplication  table 
as  there  is  in  Lex  Rex  ;  and  then,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
Letters  have  no  other  fault  but  this,  that  they  are  over- 
charged with  emotion.  The  Letters  would  be  absolutely 
perfect  if  they  were  only  a  little  more  restrained  and 
chastened  in  this  one  respect.  The  pundit  and  the 
poet  are  the  opposites  and  the  extremes  of  one  another  ; 
and  the  pundit  and  the  poet  meet,  as  nowhere  else  that 
I  know  of,  in  the  author  of  Lex  Rex  and  the  Letters. 

Then,  again,  what  extremes  of  beauty  and  sweetness 
there  are  in  Rutherford's  style,  too  often  intermingled 
with  what  carelessness  and  disorder.  What  flashes  of 
noblest  thought,  clothed  in  the  most  apt  and  well-fitting 
words,  on  the  same  page  with  the  most  slatternly  and 
down-at-the-heel  English.  Both  Dr.  Andrew  Bonar 
and  Dr.  Andrew  Thomson  have  given  us  selections  from 
Rutherford's  Letters  that  would  quite  justify  us  in  claim- 
ing Rutherford  as  one  of  the  best  writers  of  English 
in  his  day  ;  but  then  we  know  out  of  what  thickets  of 
careless  composition  these  flowers  have  been  collected. 
Both  Gillespie  and  Rutherford  ran  a  tilt  at  Hooker ; 
but  alas  for  the  equipment  and  the  manners  of  our 
champions  when  compared  with  the  shining  panoply  and 
the  knightly  grace  of  the  author  of  the  incomparable 
Polity. 


124  SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD 

And  then,  morally,  as  great  extremes  met  in  Ruther- 
ford as  intellectually.  Newman  has  a  fine  sermon 
under  a  fine  title,  '  Saintliness  not  forfeited  by  the 
Penitent.'  '  No  degree  of  sin,'  he  says,  '  precludes  the 
acquisition  of  any  degree  of  holiness,  however  high. 
No  sinner  so  great,  but  he  may,  through  God's  grace, 
become  a  saint  ever  so  great.'  And  then  he  goes  on  to 
illustrate  that,  and  to  balance  that,  and  almost  to  retract 
and  to  deny  all  that,  in  a  way  that  all  his  admirers  only 
too  well  know.  But  still  it  stands  true.  A  friend  of 
mine  once  told  me  that  it  was  to  him  often  the  most 
delightful  and  profitable  of  Sabbath  evening  exercises 
just  to  take  down  Newman's  sermons  and  read  their 
titles  over  again.  And  this  mere  title,  I  feel  sure,  has 
encouraged  and  comforted  many :  '  Saintliness  not 
forfeited  by  the  Penitent.'  And  Samuel  Rutherford's 
is  just  another  great  name  to  be  added  to  the  noble 
roll  of  saintly  penitents  which  we  all  have  in  our  minds 
taken  out  of  Scripture  and  Church  History.  Neither 
great  saintliness  nor  great  service  was  forfeited  by 
this  penitent ;  and  he  is  constantly  telling  us  how  the 
extreme  of  demerit  and  the  extreme  of  gracious  treatment 
met  in  him  ;  how  he  had  at  one  time  destroyed  him- 
self, and  how  God  had  helped  him  ;  how,  where  sin  had 
abounded,  grace  had  abounded  much  more.  In  one  of 
the  very  last  letters  he  ever  wrote — his  letter  to  James 
Guthrie  in  1G61 — he  is  still  amazed  that  God  has  not 
brought  his  sin  to  the  Market  Cross,  to  use  his  own 
word.  But  all  through  his  letters  this  same  note  of 
admiration  and  wonder  runs — that  he  has  been  taken 
from  among  the  pots  and  his  wings  covered  with  silver 
and  gold.  Truly,  in  his  case  the  most  seraphic  saintli- 
ness was  not  forfeited,  and  we  who  read  his  books  may 
well  bless  God  it  was  so. 


SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD  125 

And  then,  experimentally  also,  what  extremes  met 
in  our  author !  Pascal  in  Paris  and  Rutherford  in 
Anwoth  and  Aberdeen  and  St.  Andrews  were  at  the 
very  opposite  poles  ecclesiastically  from  one  another. 
I  do  not  like  to  think  what  Rutherford  would  have  said 
of  Pascal,  but  I  cannot  embody  what  I  have  to  say  of 
Rutherford's  experimental  extremes  better  than  just 
by  this  passage  taken  from  the  Thoughts  :  '  The  Christian 
religion  teaches  the  righteous  man  that  it  lifts  him  even 
to  a  participation  in  the  divine  nature  ;  but  that,  in 
this  exalted  state,  he  still  bears  within  him  the  fountain 
of  all  corruption,  which  renders  him  during  his  whole 
life  subject  to  error  and  misery,  to  sin  and  death,  while 
at  the  same  time  it  proclaims  to  the  most  wicked  that 
they  can  still  receive  the  grace  of  their  Redeemer.' 
And  again :  '  Did  we  not  know  ourselves  full  of  pride, 
ambition,  lust,  weakness,  misery  and  injustice,  we  were 
indeed  blind.  .  .  .  What  then  can  we  feel  but  a  great 
esteem  for  a  religion  that  is  so  well  acquainted  with  the 
defects  of  man,  and  a  great  desire  for  the  truth  of  a 
religion  that  promises  remedies  so  precious.' 

And  yet  again,  what  others  thought  of  him,  and  how 
they  treated  him,  compared  with  what  he  knew  himself 
to  be,  caused  Rutherford  many  a  bitter  reflection.  Every 
letter  he  got  consulting  him  and  appealing  to  him  as  if 
he  had  been  God's  living  oracle  made  him  lie  down  in 
the  very  dust  with  shame  and  self-abhorrence.  Writing 
on  one  occasion  to  Robert  Blair  he  told  him  that  his 
letter  consulting  him  about  some  matter  of  Christian 
experience  had  been  like  a  blow  in  the  face  to  him  ;  it 
affects  me  much,  said  Rutherford,  that  a  man  like  you 
should  have  any  such  opinion  of  me.  And,  apologising 
for  his  delay  in  replying  to  a  letter  of  Lady  Boyd's,  he 
says  that  he  is  put  out  of  all  love  of  writing  letters  because 


126  SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD 

his  correspondents  think  things  about  him  that  he  him- 
self knows  are  not  true.  '  My  white  side  comes  out  on 
paper — but  at  home  there  is  much  black  work.  All  the 
challenges  that  come  to  me  are  true.'  There  was  no 
man  then  alive  on  the  earth  so  much  looked  up  to  and 
consulted  in  the  deepest  matters  of  the  soul,  in  the 
secrets  of  the  Lord  with  the  soul,  as  Rutherford  was, 
and  his  letters  bear  evidence  on  every  page  that  there 
was  no  man  who  had  a  more  loathsome  and  a  more 
hateful  experience  of  his  own  heart,  not  even  Brodie, 
not  even  Owen,  not  even  Bunyan,  not  even  Baxter. 
What  a  day  of  extremest  men  that  was,  and  what  an 
inheritance  we  extreme  men  have  had  left  us,  in  their 
inward,  extreme,  and  heavenly  books  ! 

Once  more,  hear  him  on  the  tides  of  feeling  that 
continually  rose  and  fell  within  his  heart.  Writing  from 
Aberdeen  to  Lady  Boyd,  he  says  :  '  I  have  not  now,  of 
a  long  time,  found  such  high  springtides  as  formerly. 
The  sea  is  out,  and  I  cannot  buy  a  wind  and  cause  it  to 
flow  again  ;  only  I  wait  on  the  shore  till  the  Lord  sends 
a  full  sea.  .  .  .  But  even  to  dream  of  Him  is  sweet.' 
And  then,  just  over  the  leaf,  to  Marion  M'Naught : 
'  I  am  well :  honour  to  God.  .  .  .  He  hath  broken  in 
upon  a  poor  prisoner's  goul  like  the  swelling  of  Jordan. 
I  am  bank  and  brim  full :  a  great  high  springtide  of 
the  consolations  of  Christ  hath  overwhelmed  me.'  But 
sweet  as  it  is  to  read  his  rapturous  expressions  when  the 
tide  is  full,  I  feel  it  far  more  helpful  to  hear  how  he  still 
looks  and  Avaits  for  the  return  of  the  tide  when  the  tide 
is  low,  and  when  the  shore  is  full,  as  all  left  shores  are 
apt  to  be,  of  weeds  and  mire,  and  all  corrupt  and  unclean 
things.  Rutherford  is  never  more  helpful  to  his  corre- 
spondents than  when  they  consult  him  about  their  ebb 
tides,  and  find  that  he  himself  either  has  been,  or  still 
is,  in  the  same  experience. 


SAMUEL  RUTHERFORD  127 

But  why  do  we  disinter  such  things  as  these  out  of 
such  an  author  as  Samuel  Rutherford  ?  Why  do  we 
tell  to  all  the  world  that  such  an  eminent  saint  was 
full  of  such  sad  extremes  ?  Well,  we  surely  do  so  out 
of  obedience  to  the  divine  command  to  comfort  God's 
people  ;  for,  next  to  their  having  no  such  extremes  in 
themselves,  their  next  best  comfort  is  to  be  told  that 
great  and  eminent  saints  of  God  have  had  the  very  same 
besetting  sins  and  staggering  extremes  as  they  still  have. 
If  the  like  of  Samuel  Rutherford  was  vexed  and  weak- 
ened with  such  intellectual  contradictions  and  spiritual 
extremes  in  his  mind,  in  his  heart  and  in  his  history, 
then  may  we  not  hope  that  some  such  saintliness,  if  not 
some  such  service  as  his,  may  be  permitted  to  us  also  ? 


THOMAS    SHEPARD 

Jonathan  Edwards,  '  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  sons 
of  men,'  has  given  us  his  Appreciation  of  Thomas 
Shepard  in  a  most  eloquent  and  impressive  way.  I  know 
no  such  complete  and  conclusive  appreciation  in  all  litera- 
ture as  when  Jonathan  Edwards  on  every  page  under- 
builds and  establishes  and  illustrates  his  spiritual  master- 
piece, the  Religious  Affections,  with  constant  references  to 
the  Ten  Virgins,  the  Sound  Convert  and  the  Spiritual 
Experiences,  and  with  no  less  than  innumerable  quota- 
tions from  those  so  experimental  Puritan  books.  I 
know  no  instance  of  the  laudaiur  a  laudato  principle  at 
all  to  compare  with  that  of  Thomas  Shepard  and  Jonathan 
Edwards.  Now,  though  I  cannot  speak  mth  an  atom 
of  the  authority  of  Edwards,  at  the  same  time  I  am  not 
on  that  account  wholly  shut  out  from  making  my  own 
humble  acknowledgment  of  what  I  also  owe  to  this 
great  Pilgrim  Father.  I  am  not  debarred  from  laying 
my  own  loyal  tribute  at  the  feet  of  the  man  on  whose 
head  Jonathan  Edwards  has  set  such  a  crown. 

Thomas  Shepard  has  been  one  of  my  favourite  authors 
ever  since  the  year  1861  when  my  honoured  friend 
Dr.  Williamson  of  Huntly  wrote  my  name  on  his  own 
copy  of  the  Parable  of  the  Ten  Virgins.  I  think  I  must 
have  read  Shepard  quite  as  often  as  Spurgeon  had  read 
Bunyan ;  quite  as  often  at  any  rate  as  Jowett  had 
read  Boswell.     And  I  am  still  reading  Shepard  as  if  I 

I 


130  THOMAS  SHEPARD 

had  never  read  him  before.  As  a  proof  of  that  take 
this  httle  confidence  of  mine.  The  week  before  one  of 
my  hohdays  I  had  read  Professor  Churton  Colhns's 
dehghtful  paper  on  The  Tempest  that  had  appeared 
some  time  previously  in  the  Contejnporary  Review. 
And  so  impressed  was  I  with  the  learned  Professor's 
paper  that  I  took  to  the  country  with  me  Dr.  Furness's  • 
variorum  and  monumental  edition  of  that  exquisite 
work,  promising  myself  a  great  revel  over  the  great 
text  and  over  the  extraordinary  rich  mass  of  explanatory 
and  illustrative  notes.  But  would  you  believe  it  ? 
with  such  a  temptation  lying  on  my  table  all  the  time 
I  never  once  opened  the  seductive  volume.  For,  as 
God  would  have  it,  as  John  Bunyan  was  wont  to  say, 
I  had  taken  Thomas  Shepard  also  with  me,  and  I  read 
the  Ten  Virgins,  and  the  Sound  Behever,  and  the  Sincere 
Convert,  and  the  Saint's  Jewel,  and  the  Select  Cases, 
and  the  Spiritual  Experiences  over  and  over  again ; 
execrable  EngUsh  and  all.  And  instead  of  repenting 
myself  for  my  neglect  of  Shakespeare  and  his  monu- 
mental editor,  I  came  home  thanking  God  again  for  His 
so  notable  and  so  exceptional  servant  Shepard.  And 
more  than  that,  I  came  home  more  settled  and  resolved 
than  ever  to  do  all  I  can  to  make  you  know  something 
of  Shepard's  matchlessly  pungent  lessons  in  spiritual  and 
experimental  religion.  And  to  reassure  me  I  took  out 
of  my  desk  and  read  again  a  postcard  bearing  the 
Aberdeen  postmark,  which  I  received  some  years  ago 
and  which  runs  thus  :  '  A  thousand  thanks  for  pressing 
Thomas  Shepard  on  our  attention.  After  long  looking 
for  it,  I  have  at  last  got  a  copy  of  the  Parable,  and  I  can 
scarcely  lay  it  down.  It  is  proving  itself  a  very  book  of 
life  to  me.  This  is  the  preaching  that  our  day  needs. — 
A  Feee  Chuech  Minister.' 


THOMAS  SIIEPARD  131 

I  dare  say  you  will  remember  that  I  we.s  always  besieg- 
ing you  to  buy  and  to  read  and  to  read  all  your  days, 
as  also  to  distribute,  the  Pilgrini's  Progress  and  the 
Grace  Abounding.  But  you  will  have  perfeet  peace  of 
mind  concerning  Thomas  Shepard  and  his  works.  For 
I  shall  never  ask  any  of  you  to  spend  one  penny  on 
Shepard,  such  is  his  atrocious  English.  Bunyan  and 
Shepard  are  at  one  in  the  deepest  things,  but  they  stand 
at  opposite  poles  in  the  matter  of  their  English  style. 
Shepard  at  his  very  best  wrote  an  all  but  unrecognisable 
English.  But  after  the  New  England  printers  and  then 
the  Aberdeen  printers  had  put  Shepard's  best  book 
through  their  hands,  if  hands  they  could  be  called, 
Shepard  came  forth  absolutely  unreadable,  unless  to  a 
few  resolved  and  relentless  and  irresistible  readers, 
such  as  Mrs.  Black  of  Dunnikier  Manse,  and  Dr.  Foote 
of  Brechin,  and  Dr.  Williamson,  and  myself.  Much  as 
I  respect  William  Grecnhill's  judgment,  I  cannot  follow 
him  when  he  says  of  Shepard  that  '  here  is  a  cornfield 
without  cockle  or  thorns  or  thistles.'  I  know  quite 
well  what  Greenhill  means  when  he  says  all  that,  and  I 
wholly  subscribe  to  his  deep  meaning.  But  if  I  were 
to  repeat  his  words  without  some  warning,  you  might 
be  led  into  advertising  for  the  old  book,  which  you  would 
no  sooner  open  than  you  would  throw  it  down  in  disgust 
and  in  indignation  both  at  Shepard  and  at  Greenhill 
and  at  me.  '  Polybius,'  says  Dr.  Butcher,  '  pays  the 
penalty  attaching  to  neglect  of  form ;  he  is  read  by 
few.'  At  the  same  time  I  will  say  this.  As  we  find 
Principal  Kendall  quite  frankly  acknowledging  the 
heavy  cramped  vocabulary,  and  the  deadness  of  expres- 
sion, and  the  formless  monotony  of  clause  that  all  com- 
bine to  weigh  down  the  First  Book  of  Marcus  Aurelius  : 
while  at  the  same  time  he  stands  up  against  Matthew 


132  THOMAS  SHEPARD 

Arnold  when  that  critic  says  that  the  Emperor's  style 
lacks  distinction  and  physiognomy,  so  will  I  stand  up 
for  Shepard's  distinction  and  for  his  physiognomy.  The 
truth  is,  while  repeating  and  exaggerating  all  the  stoic 
Emperor's  faults  of  style,  Shepard's  mental  countenance 
is  even  more  unmistakable  to  me  than  is  that  of  the 
royal  author  of  the  immortal  Thoughts.  There  is  no 
possibility  of  our  ever  mistaking  a  page  or  a  paragraph 
or  even  a  sentence  of  Thomas  Shepard's.  Not  only 
because  of  its  unparalleled  shapelessness,  but  much 
more  because  of  its  Paul-like  hands  and  feet.  For 
Shepard,  once  he  has  got  on  your  track,  will  follow  hard 
after  you  all  your  days.  And  once  he  gets  a  real  hold 
of  you,  as  Luther  said  of  Paul,  you  will  never  be  able  to 
shake  him  off  again.  But  when  all  is  said  that  can  be 
said  about  Shepard's  sluggard's-garden  of  a  style,  if 
you  will  go  with  me  into  the  resolved  study  of  this  great 
Puritan  I  will  promise  you  many  a  sweet  and  fragrant 
flower  out  of  his  crannied  and  crumbling  walls,  and  many 
a  medicinal  herb  out  of  his  stoniest  places,  and  many  a 
cup  of  wine  well  refined  out  of  his  most  gnarled  or  crabbed 
vinestocks.  Just  gird  up  your  loins  and  come  with  me 
and  see  if  it  will  not  be  so.  And  as  the  saintly  David 
Brainerd  says,  '  We  shall  see  what  passed  for  soul-saving 
religion  with  that  so  excellent  and  so  venerable  Pilgrim 
Father  Thomas  Shepard,  the  author  of  the  Sound 
Convert,  the  Spiritual  Experiences,  and  the  Parable 
Unfolded: 

Take  these,  then,  as  some  specimen  and  characteristic 
headings,  sometimes  of  short  entries,  and  sometimes  of 
whole  chapters,  in  Shepard's  Spiritual  Experiences : 
'  No  one  who  ever  came  under  my  shadow  prospered.' 
'  The  more  I  do  the  worse  I  am.'  '  My  idle  words  in 
my  preaching,  in  my  praise,  and  in  my  prayer.'     '  The 


THOMAS  SHEPARD  133 

sins  of  one  day  I  forget  the  next  day.'  '  I  come  to  see 
that  God  is  having  His  whole  Name  in  Exodus  xxxiv. 
fulfilled  and  adorned  in  me.'  '  For  His  sake  I  am  killed 
all  the  day  long.'  '  I  keep  a  private  fast  for  the  con- 
quest of  my  pride.'  '  My  sins  are  sometimes  crucified, 
but  they  are  never  mortified.'  '  I  am  salted  with 
suffering.'  '  Fiat  experimentum  in  corpore  vili.'  '  I 
abhor  myself.'  '  You  ask  me  what  cured  me  of  being 
an  infidel.'  '  Some  remorses  of  an  old  ministry.' 
'  Surely  I  have  always  laid  my  pipe  far  short  of  the 
Fountain,'  and  so  on,  through  the  whole  unique  book. 
Now,  I  will  appeal  to  all  readers  of  the  best  literature 
to  say  if  they  ever  came  upon  more  penetrating  and 
more  pungent  titles  and  topics  than  these.  At  any  rate, 
the  immortal  author  of  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  and  the 
True  Virtue,  and  the  Religious  Affections  never  did ; 
and  his  splendid  appreciation  of  Thomas  Shepard  runs 
accordingly. 

When  matters  were  not  going  well  with  Shepard 
himself  in  his  family  life,  in  his  pain  and  remorse  he 
would  sometimes  say  that  he  thought  the  Pope  had  the 
right  way  of  it  with  his  preachers  and  pastors.  At  any 
rate,  he  would  sometimes  say,  I  wish  I  had  remained  a 
celibate  along  with  my  own  soul  all  my  days.  Other 
men,  he  was  wont  to  say,  might  not  always  manage 
their  family  life  with  the  most  perfect  success ;  but  a 
minister's  breakdown  at  home  was  to  Shepard  the 
greatest  of  all  domestic  tragedies.  He  had  known 
many  ministers,  both  in  Old  England  and  in  New 
England,  whose  family  life  was  a  great  success  in  every 
way.  But  not  his  own.  As  for  himself,  neither  wife, 
nor  child,  nor  servant,  nor  visitor  prospered  spiritually 
under  his  baleful  shadow.  So  he  enters  it,  again  and 
again,  on  occasions,  in  his  secret  journal  which  he  kept 


134  THOMAS  SHEPARD 

alone  with  God.  Nobody  but  himself  thought  such 
things  about  Thomas  Shepard.  All  the  same,  never 
was  there  more  sincerity  or  more  poignancy  in  any 
private  journal  than  there  was  in  his.  Thales  was  so 
fond  of  children  that  nothing  would  persuade  him  to 
become  a  father.  And  though  Thomas  Shepard  became 
the  father  of  more  children  than  one,  he  both  loved  and 
pitied  his  children  so  much  that  he  would  sometimes 
wish  they  had  never  been  born,  at  any  rate  to  him. 

Altogether,  substitute  Thomas  Shepard,  the  New 
England  Puritan,  for  Santa  Teresa,  the  Spanish  Superior, 
and  you  will  have  his  exact  case  in  his  home  life,  as  he 
so  often  saw  and  felt  it  to  be.  Thomas  Shepard  could 
not  express  himself  nearly  so  well  as  Santa  Teresa  could  ; 
but  in  substance  and  in  essence  they  both  said  exactly 
the  same  thing.  '  My  children,'  said  the  saint  on  her 
death-bed,  '  you  must  pardon  me  much.  You  must 
pardon  me  most  of  all  the  bad  example  I  have  given 
you.  Do  not  imitate  me.  Do  not  live  as  I  have  lived. 
I  have  been  the  greatest  sinner  in  all  Spain.  I  have  not 
kept  the  laws  that  I  laid  down  for  other  people.  But, 
then,  is  not  this  written  in  David  expressly  for  me, 
The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit ;  a  broken  and 
contrite  heart  God  will  not  despise  ?  '  Thomas  Shepard 
and  Teresa  of  Jesus  would  not  have  spoken  to  one 
another  on  earth.  But  they  are  now  praising  God 
together  in  glory  ;  and  for  their  family  shame  they  are 
now  having  the  double,  as  they  sing  together  before 
the  throne,  and  say  :  By  Thy  great  grace  to  us,  O  God, 
here  are  we  ourselves,  and  all  the  children  that  Thou 
didst  give  us. 

When  Dr.  Chalmers  was  out  at  Skirling  on  one  occa- 
sion he  went  to  the  village  school  and  gave  the  children 
an   elementary   lesson   in   optical   science.     Taking   the 


THOMAS  SHEPARD  185 

blackboard  and  a  piece  of  chalk  he  drew  a  long  diameter 
on  the  board,  and  then  he  ran  a  large  circumference 
around  the  diameter.  And  then  turning  to  the  wonder- 
ing children  he  said  to  them  in  his  own  imaginative  and 
eloquent  way,  '  You  must  all  see  that  the  longer  the 
diameter  of  light  the  larger  is  the  surrounding  circum- 
ference of  darkness.  And  in  like  manner  the  shorter 
the  diameter  of  light  the  smaller  is  the  circumference 
of  the  surrounding  darkness.'  Now,  all  we  have  to  do 
in  order  to  explain  and  illustrate  one  of  Thomas 
Shepard's  most  startling  self-accusations  is  to  carry 
over  Dr.  Chalmers's  mathematical  and  optical  black- 
board into  the  region  of  moral  and  spiritual  things. 
'  The  more  I  do,'  says  Shepard  oftener  than  once,  '  the 
worse  I  am.'  That  is  to  say,  the  longer  the  diameter 
of  Shepard's  duty  done  the  larger  is  the  circumference  of 
duty  he  has  still  to  do.  And  the  holier  and  holier  his 
heart  and  life  become  the  more  sinful  the  remaining 
corruption  of  his  heart  and  life  becomes  to  him,  till  he 
is  constrained  to  cry  out  with  the  holiest  of  men,  O 
wretched  man  that  I  am  ! 

And  then,  carrying  up  all  his  own  experience  of  the 
spiritual  life  therewith  to  deepen  and  strengthen  and 
enrich  his  pulpit  work,  the  great  preacher  would  say  : 
'  There  is  no  difference.  I  am  as  you  are,  and  you  are 
as  I  am.  Just  try  the  thing  yourselves.  Just  begin  to 
love  God  mth  all  your  heart,  and  you  will  soon  see  that 
the  more  you  try  to  do  that  the  less  will  you  feel  satisfied 
that  you  succeed.  And,  in  like  manner,  when  you 
begin  to  love  your  neighbour  as  yourself  you  will  begin 
to  get  a  lesson  with  a  vengeance  in  the  spiritual  life. 
Just  try  to  rejoice  in  all  your  neighbour's  well-being  as 
much  as  you  rejoice  in  your  own.  Just  try  to  relish  and 
enjoy  all  other  men's  praises  of  your  neighbour  as  you 


136  THOMAS  SHEPARD 

relish  and  enjoy  all  other  men's  praises  of  yourself. 
Just  try  to  take  delight  in  all  your  neighbour's  rewards, 
promotions,  prosperities  as  you  take  delight  in  your 
own.  And  go  on  trying  to  do  that  toward  all  men 
around  you,  friend  and  foe,  and  you  will  get  a  lesson  in 
the  infinite  and  exquisite  holiness  and  spirituality  of 
God's  law  of  love,  and  at  the  same  time  a  lesson  in  the 
abominable  and  unspeakable  corruptions  of  your  own 
heart  that  will  make  you  wiser  in  all  these  matters  than 
all  your  teachers.'  In  such  homecoming  homiletic  as 
that  Shepard  made  pulpit  and  pastoral  application  of 
his  own  experiences  in  the  spiritual  life.  Till  he  became 
a  foremost  master  in  all  these  holy  matters,  and  till  men 
like  Edwards  and  Brainerd  sat  as  his  scholars  at  his 
feet  in  New  England,  and  till  his  name  became  a  tower 
of  truth  and  power  in  the  old  England  from  which  he 
had  been  exiled. 


WILLIAM    GUTHRIE 

William  Guthrie  was  a  great  humourist,  a  great  sports- 
man, a  great  preacher,  and  a  great  writer.  The  true 
Guthrie  blood  has  always  had  a  drop  of  humour  in  it,  and 
the  first  minister  of  Fen  wick  was  a  genuine  Guthrie  in  this 
respect.  The  finest  humour  springs  up  out  of  a  wide  and 
a  deep  heart,  and  it  always  has  its  roots  watered  at  a 
well-head  of  tears.  '  William  Guthrie  was  a  great  melan- 
cholian,'  says  Wodrow,  and  as  we  read  that  we  are  re- 
minded of  some  other  great  melancholians,  such  as  Jacob 
Behmen  and  Blaise  Pascal  and  Joseph  Butler  and  John 
Foster  and  William  Cowper  and  Samuel  Johnson.  William 
Guthrie  knew,  by  his  temperament,  and  by  his  knowledge 
of  himself  and  of  other  men,  that  he  was  a  great  melan- 
cholian,  and  he  studied  how  to  divert  himself  sometimes 
in  order  that  he  might  not  be  altogether  drowned  with 
his  melancholy.  And  thus,  maugre  his  melancholy,  and 
indeed  by  reason  of  it,  William  Guthrie  was  a  great 
humourist.  He  was  the  fife  of  the  party  on  the  moors, 
in  the  manse,  and  in  the  General  Assembly.  But  the 
life  of  the  party  when  he  was  present  was  always  pure 
and  noble  and  pious,  even  if  it  was  sometimes  some- 
what hilarious  and  boisterous.  '  If  a  man's  melancholy 
temperament  is  sanctified,'  says  Rutherford  in  his  Coven- 
ant of  Grace,  '  it  becomes  to  him  a  seat  of  sound  mortifi- 
cation and  of  humble  walking.'  And  that  was  the  happy 
result    of    all    William    Guthrie's    melancholy ;     it    was 

1S7 


138  WILLIAM  GUTHRIE 

always  alleviated  and  relieved  by  great  outbursts  of  good 
humour  ;  but  both  his  melancholy  and  his  hilarity  always 
ended  in  a  humbler  walk.  Samuel  Rutherford  confides 
in  a  letter  to  his  old  friend,  Alexander  Gordon,  that  he 
knows  a  man  who  sometimes  wonders  to  see  any  one  laugh 
or  sport  in  this  so  sinful  and  sad  life.  But  that  was 
because  he  had  embittered  the  springs  of  laughter  in  him- 
self by  the  wormwood  sins  of  his  youth.  William  Guthrie 
had  no  such  remorseful  memories  continually  taking  him 
by  the  throat  as  his  divinity  professor  had,  and  thus 
it  was  that  with  all  his  melancholy  he  was  known  as  the 
greatest  humourist  and  the  greatest  sportsman  in  the 
Scottish  Kirk  of  his  day.  No  doubt  he  sometimes  felt 
and  confessed  that  his  love  of  fun  and  frolic  was  a  temp- 
tation that  he  had  to  watch  well  against.  In  his  Saving 
Interest  he  speaks  of  some  sins  that  are  wrought  up  into 
a  man's  natural  humour  and  constitution,  and  are  thus 
as  a  right  hand  and  a  right  eye  to  him.  '  My  merriment  !  ' 
he  confessed  to  one  who  had  rebuked  him  for  it,  '  I  know 
all  you  would  say,  and  my  merriment  costs  me  many  a 
salt  tear  in  secret.'  At  the  same  time  this  was  often 
remarked  with  wonder  in  Guthrie,  that  however  boister- 
ous his  fun  was,  in  one  moment  he  could  turn  from  it 
to  the  most  serious  things.  '  It  was  often  observed,'  says 
Wodrow,  '  that,  let  Mr.  Guthrie  be  never  so  merry,  he 
was  presently  in  a  frame  for  the  most  spiritual  duty,  and 
the  only  account  I  can  give  of  it,'  says  wise  Wodrow,  '  is, 
that  he  acted  from  sj)iritual  principles  in  all  he  did,  and 
even  in  his  relaxations.'  Poor  Guthrie  had  a  terrible 
malady  that  preyed  on  his  most  vital  part  continually — 
a  malady  that  at  last  carried  him  off  in  the  mid-time  of 
his  days,  and,  like  Solomon  in  the  proverb,  he  took  to  a 
merry  heart  as  an  alleviating  medicine. 

Like  our  own  Thomas  Guthrie,  William  Guthrie  was  a 


WILLIAM  GUTHRIE  139 

great  angler.  He  could  gaff  out  a  salmon  in  as  few 
minutes  as  the  deftest-handed  gamekeeper  in  all  the 
country,  and  he  could  stalk  down  a  deer  in  as  few  hours 
as  my  lord  himself  who  did  nothing  else.  When  he  was 
composing  his  Saving  Interest,  he  heard  somehow  of  a 
poor  countryman  near  Haddington  who  had  come  through 
some  extraordinaiy  experiences  in  his  spiritual  life,  and 
he  set  out  from  Fenwick  all  the  way  to  Haddington  to 
see  and  converse  with  the  much-experienced  man.  All 
that  night  and  all  the  next  day  Guthrie  could  not  tear 
himself  away  from  the  conversation  of  the  man  and  his 
wife.  But  at  last,  looking  up  and  down  the  country,  his 
angling  eye  caught  sight  of  a  trout-stream,  and,  as  if  he 
had  in  a  moment  forgotten  all  about  his  book  at  home 
and  all  that  this  saintly  man  had  contributed  to  it, 
Guthrie  asked  him  if  he  had  a  fishing-rod,  and  if  he  would 
give  him  a  loan  of  it.  The  old  man  felt  that  his  poor 
rough  tackle  was  to  be  absolutely  glorified  by  such  a 
minister  as  Guthrie  condescending  to  touch  it,  but  his 
good  wife  did  not  like  this  come-down  at  the  end  of  such 
a  visit  as  his  had  been,  and  she  said  so.  She  was  a  clever 
old  woman,  and  I  am  not  sure  but  she  had  the  best  of 
it  in  the  debate  that  followed  about  ministers  fishing, 
and  about  their  facetious  conversations.  The  Hadding- 
ton stream,  and  the  dispute  that  rose  out  of  it,  recall  to 
my  mind  a  not  unlike  incident  that  took  place  on  the 
street  of  Ephcsus,  in  the  far  East,  just  about  1800  years 
ago.  John,  the  venerable  Apostle,  had  just  finished  the 
fourteenth  chapter  of  his  great  Gospel,  and  felt  himself 
unable  to  recollect  and  write  out  any  more  that  night. 
And  coming  out  into  the  setting  sun  he  began  to  amuse 
himself  with  a  tame  partridge  that  the  Bactrian  convert 
had  caught  and  made  a  present  of  to  his  old  master.  The 
partridge  had  been  waiting  till  the  pen  and  the  parch- 


140  WILLIAM  GUTHRIE 

merit  were  put  by,  and  now  it  was  on  John's  hand,  and 
now  on  his  shoulder,  and  now  circHng  round  his  sportful 
head,  till  you  would  have  thought  that  its  owner  was  the 
idlest  and  foolishest  old  man  in  all  Ephesus.  A  hunts- 
man, who  greatly  respected  his  old  pastor,  was  passing 
home  from  the  hills  and  was  sore  distressed  to  see  such  a 
saint  as  John  was  trifling  away  his  short  time  with  a 
stupid  bird.  And  he  could  not  keep  from  stopping  his 
horse  and  saying  so  to  the  old  Evangelist.  '  What  is 
that  you  carry  in  your  hand  ?  '  asked  John  at  the  hunts- 
man with  great  meekness.  '  It  is  my  bow  with  which 
I  shoot  wild  game  up  in  the  mountains,'  replied  the  hunts- 
man. '  And  why  do  you  let  it  hang  so  loose  ?  You 
cannot  surely  shoot  anything  with  your  bow  in  that 
condition  ! '  '  No,'  answered  the  amused  huntsman, 
'  but  if  I  always  kept  my  bow  strung  it  would  not  rebound 
and  send  home  my  arrow  when  I  needed  it.  I  unstring 
my  bow  on  the  street  that  I  may  the  better  shoot  with  it 
when  I  am  up  among  my  quarry.'  '  Good,'  said  the 
Evangelist,  '  and  I  have  learned  a  lesson  from  you  hunts- 
men. For  I  am  playing  with  my  partridge  to-night 
that  I  may  the  better  finish  my  Gospel  to-morrow.  I  am 
putting  everything  out  of  my  mind  to-night  that  I  may 
to-morrow  the  better  recollect  and  set  dovm  a  prayer  I 
heard  offered  up  by  my  Master,  now  more  than  fifty 
years  ago.'  We  readers  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  do  not 
know  how  much  we  owe  to  the  Bactrian  boy's  tame 
partridge,  and  neither  did  John  Owen  nor  Thomas 
Chalmers  know  how  much  they  owed  to  the  fishing-rods 
and  the  curling-stones,  the  fowling-pieces  and  the  violins 
that  crowded  the  corners  of  the  manse  of  Fenwick.  I 
do  not  know  that  William  Guthrie  made  a  clean  breast 
to  the  Presbytery  of  all  the  reasons  that  moved  him  to 
refuse  so  many  calls  to  a  city  charge,  though  I  think  I 


WILLIAM  GUTHRIE  141 

see  that  David  Dickson,  the  Moderator,  divined  some  of 
them  by  the  joke  he  made  about  the  moors  and  streams 
of  Fenwick  to  one  of  the  defeated  and  departing  depu- 
tations. 

Wilham  Guthrie,  the  eldest  son  and  sole  heir  of  the  laird 
of  Pitforthy,  might  have  had  fishing  and  shooting  to  his 
heart's  content  on  his  own  lands  of  Pitforthy  and  Easter 
Ogle  had  he  not  determined,  when  under  Rutherford  at 
St.  Andrews,  to  give  himself  up  wholly  to  his  preaching. 
But,  to  put  himself  out  of  the  temptation  that  hills  and 
streams  and  lochs  and  houses  and  lands  would  have 
been  to  a  man  of  his  tastes  and  temperament,  soon  after 
his  conversion  William  made  over  to  a  younger  brother 
all  his  possessions  and  all  his  responsibilities  connected 
therewith,  in  order  that  he  might  give  himself  up  wholly 
to  his  preaching.  And  his  reward  was  that  he  soon 
became,  by  universal  consent,  the  greatest  practical 
preacher  in  broad  Scotland.  He  could  not  touch  Ruther- 
ford, his  old  professor,  at  pure  theology ;  he  had  neither 
Rutherford's  learning,  nor  his  ecstatic  eloquence,  nor 
his  surpassing  love  of  Jesus  Christ,  but  for  handling  broken 
bones  and  guiding  an  anxious  inquirer  no  one  could  hold 
the  candle  to  William  Guthrie.  As  Goodwin  says, 
Guthrie  had  '  a  lady's  hand.'  Descriptions  of  his  preach- 
ing abound  in  the  old  books  :  A  Glasgow  merchant  was 
compelled  to  spend  a  Sabbath  in  Arran,  and  though  he 
did  not  understand  Gaelic,  he  felt  he  must  go  to  the  place 
of  public  worship.  Great  was  his  delight  when  he  saw 
William  Guthrie  come  into  the  pulpit.  And  he  tells  us 
that  though  he  had  heard  in  his  day  many  famous 
preachers,  he  had  never  seen  under  any  preacher  so  much 
concern  of  soul  as  he  saw  that  day  in  Arran,  under  the 
minister  of  Fenwick.  There  was  scarcely  a  diy  eye  in 
the  whole  church.     A  gentleman  who  was  well  known  as 


1-12  WILLIAM  GUTHRIE 

a  most  dissolute  liver  was  in  the  church  that  day,  and 
could  not  command  himself,  so  deeply  was  he  moved 
under  Guthrie's  sermon.  That  day  was  remembered 
long  afterwards  when  that  prodigal  son  had  become  an 
eminent  Christian  man.  We  see  at  one  time  a  servant 
girl  coming  home  from  Guthrie's  church  saying  that  she 
cannot  contain  all  that  she  has  heard  to-day,  and  that  she 
feels  as  if  she  would  need  to  hear  no  more  on  this  side 
heaven.  Another  day  Wodrow's  old  mother  has  been  at 
Fenwick,  and  comes  home  saying  that  the  first  prayer 
was  more  than  enough  for  all  her  trouble  without  any 
sermon  at  all.  '  He  had  a  taking  and  a  soaring  gift  of 
preaching,'  but  it  was  its  intensely  practical  character 
that  made  Guthrie's  pulpit  so  powerful  and  so  popular. 
The  very  fact  that  he  could  go  all  the  way  in  those  days 
from  Fenwick  to  Haddington,  just  to  have  a  case  of  real 
soul-exercise  described  to  him  by  the  exercised  man  him- 
self, speaks  volumes  as  to  the  secret  of  Guthrie's  power  in 
the  pulpit.  His  people  felt  that  their  minister  knew  them  ; 
he  knew  himself,  and  therefore  he  knew  them.  He  did 
not  pronounce  windy  orations  about  tilings  that  did  not 
concern  or  edify  them.  He  was  not  learned  in  the  pulpit, 
nor  eloquent,  or,  if  he  was — and  he  was  both — all  his 
talents,  and  all  his  scholarship,  and  all  his  eloquence  were 
forgotten  in  the  intensely  practical  turn  that  his  preaching 
immediately  took.  All  the  broken  hearts  in  the  west 
country,  all  those  whose  sins  had  found  them  out,  all 
those  who  had  learned  to  know  the  plague  of  their  own 
heart,  and  who  were  passing  under  a  searching  sanctifi- 
cation — all  such  found  their  way  from  time  to  time  from 
great  distances  to  the  Kirk  of  Fenwick.  From  Glasgow 
they  came,  and  from  Paisley,  and  from  Hamilton,  and 
from  Lanark,  and  from  Kilbride,  and  from  many  other 
still  more  distant  places.     The  lobbies  of  Fenwick  Kirk 


WILLIAM  GUTHRIE  143 

were  like  the  porches  of  Bethesda  with  all  the  bhnd,  halt, 
and  withered  from  the  whole  country  round  about.  After 
Hutcheson  of  the  Minor  Prophets  had  assisted  at  the  com- 
munion of  Fenwick  on  one  occasion,  he  said  that  if  there 
was  a  church  full  of  God's  saints  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
it  was  at  Fenwick  communion-table.  Pitforthy  and  Glen 
Ogle,  and  all  the  estates  in  Angus,  were  but  dust  in  the 
balance  compared  with  one  Sabbath-day's  exercise  of 
such  a  preaching  gift  as  that  of  William  Guthrie.  '  There 
is  no  man  that  hath  forsaken  houses  and  lands  for  My 
sake  and  the  Gospel's,  but  shall  receive  an  hundredfold 
now  in  this  life,  and  in  the  world  to  come  life  everlasting.' 
But  further,  besides  being  a  great  humourist  and  a 
great  sportsman  and  a  great  preacher,  William  Guthrie 
was  a  great  writer.  Our  greatest  writers  have  all  written 
little  books.  Job  is  a  small  book,  so  is  the  Psalms,  so  is 
Isaiah,  so  is  the  Gospel  of  John,  so  is  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans,  so  is  the  Confessions,  so  is  the  Comedy,  so  is  the 
Imitation,  so  are  the  Pilgrim  and  the  Ch'ace  Abounding ; 
and,  though  William  Guthrie's  small  book  is  not  for  a 
moment  to  be  ranked  with  such  masterpieces  as  these, 
yet  it  is  a  small  book  on  a  great  subject,  and  a  book  to 
which  I  cannot  find  a  second  among  the  big  religious  books 
of  our  day.  You  will  all  find  out  your  own  favourite 
books  according  to  your  own  talents  and  tastes.  My 
calling  a  book  great  is  nothing  to  you.  But  it  may  at 
least  interest  you  for  the  passing  moment  to  be  told  what 
two  men  like  John  Owen  in  the  seventeenth  century,  and 
Thomas  Chalmers  in  the  nineteenth,  said  about  William 
Guthrie's  one  little  book.  Said  John  Owen,  drawing  a 
little  gilt  copy  of  The  Great  Interest  out  of  his  pocket : 
'  That  author  I  take  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  divines  that 
ever  wrote.  His  book  is  my  vade  mecum.  I  carry  it 
always  with  me,     I  have  written  several  folios,  but  there 


144  WILLIAM  GUTHRIE 

is  more  divinity  in  this  little  book  than  in  them  all.' 
Believe  John  Owen.  Bcheve  all  that  he  says  about 
Guthrie's  Saving  Interest ;  but  do  not  believe  what  he 
says  about  his  own  mahgned  foMos  till  you  have  read 
twenty  times  over  his  Person  and  Glory  of  Christ,  his 
Holy  Spirit,  his  Spiritual-mindedness,  and  his  Mortifica- 
tion, Dominion,  and  Indwelling  of  Sin.  Then  hear  Dr. 
Chalmers  :  '  I  am  on  the  eve  of  finishing  Guthrie,  which 
I  tliink  is  the  best  book  I  ever  read.'  After  you  have 
read  it,  if  you  ever  do,  the  likelihood  is  that  you  will  feel 
as  if  somehow  you  had  not  read  the  right  book  when  you 
remember  what  Owen  and  Chalmers  have  said  about  it. 
Yes,  you  have  read  the  right  enough  book  ;  but  the  right 
book  has  not  yet  got  in  you  the  right  reader.  There  are 
not  many  readers  abroad  like  Dr.  John  Owen  and  Dr. 
Thomas  Chalmers. 

In  its  style  William  Guthrie's  one  little  book  is  clear, 
spare,  crisp,  and  curt.  Indeed,  in  some  places  it  is  almost 
too  spare  and  too  curt  in  its  bald  simplicity.  True 
students  will  not  be  deterred  from  it  when  I  say  that  it 
is  scientifically  and  experimentally  exact  in  its  treatment 
of  the  things  of  the  soul.  They  will  best  understand  and 
appreciate  this  statement  of  Guthrie's  biographer  that 
'  when  he  was  working  at  his  Saving  Interest  he  en- 
deavoured to  inform  himself  of  all  the  Christians  in  the 
country  who  had  been  under  great  depths  of  exercise,  or 
were  still  under  such  depths,  and  endeavoured  to  con- 
verse with  them.'  Guthrie  is  almost  as  dry  as  Euclid 
himself,  and  almost  as  severe  ;  but,  then,  he  demon- 
strates almost  with  geometrical  demonstration  the  all- 
important  things  he  sets  out  to  prove.  There  is  no  room 
for  rhetoric  on  a  finger-post ;  in  a  word,  and,  sometimes 
without  a  word,  a  finger-post  tells  you  the  right  way  to 
take  to  get  to  your  journey's  end.    And  many  who  have 


WILLIAM  GUTHRIE  145 

wandered  into  a  far  country  have  found  their  way  home 
again  under  William  Guthrie's  exact  marks  and  curt 
directions.  You  open  the  Httle  book,  and  there  is  a 
sentence  of  the  plainest,  directest,  and  least  entertaining 
or  attractive  prose,  followed  up  with  a  text  of  Scripture 
to  prove  the  plain  and  indisputable  prose.  Then  there 
is  another  sentence  of  the  same  prose,  supported  by  two 
texts,  and  thus  the  little  treatise  goes  on  till,  if  you  are 
happy  enough  to  be  interested  in  the  author's  subject- 
matter,  the  eternal  interests  of  your  own  soul,  a  strong, 
strange  fascination  begins  to  come  off  the  little  book  and 
into  your  understanding,  imagination,  and  heart,  till 
you  look  up  again  what  Dr.  Owen  and  Dr.  Chalmers  said 
about  your  favourite  author,  and  feel  fortified  in  your 
valuation  of,  and  in  your  affection  for,  William  Guthrie 
and  his  golden  little  book. 


JAMES    FRASER 

The  religious  literature  of  Scotland  is  remarkably  rich 
in  books  of  religious  autobiography.  Telling  us  each  one 
his  own  spiritual  story  we  have  James  Melville,  and 
Robert  Blair,  and  John  Livingstone,  and  Alexander 
Brodie,  and  James  Fraser,  and  Thomas  Halyburton, 
and  Thomas  Boston,  and  Hugh  Miller,  and  John  Duncan, 
and  William  Taylor,  and  Andrew  Bonar.  And  there 
are  not  a  few  fragments  of  the  same  kind  quite  worthy 
to  stand  beside  those  full  and  finished  works  ;  such  as 
the  autobiographical  remains  of  the  Lady  Coltness,  the 
Lady  Anne  Elcho,  and  Marion  Veitch.  Every  one  of 
those  famous  autobiographies  has  its  own  individuality, 
idiosyncrasy,  and  physiognomy  ;  and  each  several  one 
of  them  makes  its  own  special  contribution  to  the  noblest 
catalogue  of  the  books  of  our  native  land.  I  know 
something  of  all  those  great  books  ;  but  there  is  none  of 
them  that  draws  me  and  holds  me  and  keeps  possession 
of  me  like  the  Meinoirs  of  Sir  James  Fraser  of  Brea, 
written  by  Himself.  Dr.  Jowett,  writing  to  Lady  Airhe, 
said  that  he  had  just  finished  Bos  well  for  the  fiftieth 
time,  and  Mr.  Spurgeon  was  wont  to  say  that  he  had 
read  Bunyan  a  hundred  times.  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
count  up  the  times  I  have  read  James  Fraser  of  Brea, 
but  if  I  did  I  feel  sure  that  I  would  run  both  Jowett  and 
Spurgeon  hard. 

Dr.  Aird  of  Creich  has  collected  the  chief  facts  of 

w 


148  JAMES  FRASER 

Fraser's  life  into  a  short  biographical  sketch  which  will 
be  found  prefixed  to  the  Inverness  edition  of  Fraser's 
autobiography.  And  Dr.  Elder  Gumming  of  Glasgow 
has  an  admirable  appreciation  of  Eraser  in  his  Holy 
Men  of  God.  The  following  arc  the  main  outlines  of 
Fraser's  much-tried  life.  He  was  born  at  Brea,  his 
father's  estate  in  Ross-shire,  on  the  29th  of  July  1639. 
His  father  died  while  his  son  James  was  still  a  child,  and 
some  of  his  greatest  troubles  in  life  came  to  him  out  of  his 
ownership  of  that  estate.  Although  he  began  to  study 
for  the  legal  profession,  young  Eraser  eventually  gave 
himself  up  to  the  study  of  divinity,  to  which  study  he 
brought  a  mind  of  the  first  intellectual  order.  From 
his  earliest  days  the  Laird  of  Brea  identified  himself 
with  the  outed  evangelical  ministers  of  the  north,  and  all 
along  he  was  a  most  pronounced  Presbyterian  and 
Covenanter,  and  both  by  his  tongue  and  by  his  pen  he 
fought  unflinchingly  for  the  freedom  of  his  Church  and 
his  country.  Both  in  the  Bass  and  in  Blackness  and  in 
Newgate  he  suffered  the  most  unjust  imprisonment, 
and  the  wickedest  and  the  most  malicious  ill-usage. 
After  the  Revolution  we  find  Eraser  settled  as  parish 
minister  of  Culross,  where  he  closed  his  troubled  career 
about  the  year  1698.  Dr.  Aird  adds  this  note  to  his 
short  sketch  of  Fraser's  life  :  '  He  was  assisted  at  a 
communion  at  Culross,  very  shortly  before  his  death, 
by  the  celebrated  Boston  of  Ettrick,  then  a  j^oung  man.' 
But  with  all  that  it  is  in  his  Memoirs  of  Himself  that 
James  Eraser  of  Brea  will  live,  and  he  will  live  in  that 
remarkable  book  as  long  as  a  scholarly  religion,  and  an 
evangelical  religion,  and  a  spiritual  religion,  and  a  pro- 
foundly experimental  religion  lives  in  his  native  land. 
In  saying  that  I  do  not  forget  the  warning  that  Dr. 
Elder  Gumming  gives  mc  to  the  effect  that  Fraser's  will 


JAMES  FRASER  149 

be  a  Scottish  reputation  only,  and  even  that  will  be 
limited  to  readers  of  a  special  cast  of  religious  experience 
and  spiritual  sympathy.  At  the  same  time,  Dr.  Elder 
Gumming  adds  that  Eraser's  autobiography  is  a  book  that 
for  depth  and  for  grip  has  few,  if  any,  equals  among  the 
foremost  books  of  its  kind  in  the  whole  world. 

Now  you  will  naturally  ask  me  at  this  point  just  what 
it  is  that  gives  James  Eraser  such  a  high  rank  as  a 
spiritual  writer,  and  just  what  it  is  that  so  signalises  his 
Memoirs  of  Himself.  Well,  in  his  own  characteristic 
words  his  Memoirs  is  '  the  book  of  the  intricacies  of  his 
own  heart  and  life,'  and  that  on  their  purely  spiritual 
side.  Now,  Eraser's  mind  was  by  nature  of  the  most 
intricate  kind — that  is  to  say,  his  mind  was  naturally 
of  the  most  acute  and  subtle  and  penetrating  and 
searching-out  kind.  Had  he  gone  into  law,  as  at  one 
time  he  intended  to  do,  he  would  infallibly  have  taken 
rank  as  one  of  the  acutest  of  our  Scottish  lawyers.  And 
with  his  immense  industry  he  would  to  a  certainty  have 
left  writings  behind  him  that  would  have  been  of  classical 
authority  in  that  great  profession.  But  to  the  lasting 
enrichment  of  his  own  soul,  and  to  the  lasting  enrichment 
of  all  his  kindred-minded  readers'  souls.  Eraser  was  led 
of  God  into  divinity,  and  into  divinity  of  the  deepest, 
acutest,  most  evangelical,  and  most  experimental  kind. 
'  I  chose  divinity,'  says  Butler,  '  it  being  of  all  studies 
the  most  suitable  to  a  reasonable  nature.' 

Unhappily  for  us,  many  of  Eraser's  private  journals, 
family  papers,  and  estate  documents  are  hopelessly  lost. 
But  if  ever  they  are  recovered  I  feel  sure  it  will  be 
found  that  he  had  made  out  more  than  once  a  most 
exact  map  and  inventory  of  his  inherited  estate  with  his 
own  exact  and  intricate  hands.  I  can  see  the  delinea- 
ments  and  the  depictments  of  the  whole  estate  of  Brea 


150  JAMES  FRASER 

as  they  were  laid  down  by  the  honestest,  and  the  exactest, 
and  the  intricatest  of  pens.  I  can  see  its  hills  and  its 
glens,  its  farms  and  its  crofts,  its  streams  and  its 
lochs,  its  cattle  and  its  game  and  its  fish,  and  all  laid 
down  with  a  mathematical  exactness  and  a  geometrical 
completeness  as  if  he  were  preparing  his  estate  for  the 
Inverness  or  Edinburgh  market ;  and  as  if  he  were  deter- 
mined to  do  so  with  the  most  absolute  justice  both  to 
the  seller  and  the  buyer.  Now  whether  those  maps  and 
plans  and  accompanying  documents  are  ever  recovered 
or  no,  most  happily  we  have  some  still  more  important 
documents  preserved  to  us  from  Eraser's  faithful  and 
careful  hands.  I  refer  to  the  delineations  he  made 
of  the  inward  estate  of  his  own  soul :  a  delineation  and 
an  inventory  that  has  been  preserved  to  us  to  this  day, 
I  will  say,  under  the  special  and  adorable  providence  of 
Eraser's  God  and  our  God.  And  it  is  an  analysis  and  a 
delineation  and  a  depictment  of  such  a  kind  that  I  know 
nothing  to  approach  it  in  any  language  that  I  read. 
And  I  thank  God  every  day  that  so  intricate  and  so 
spiritual  a  book  is  not  in  Hebrew  or  Greek  or  Latin,  but 
is  in  my  own  Scottish  tongue  wherein  I  was  born.  Eraser 
describes  his  spiritual  autobiography  as  '  The  Book  of  the 
Intricacies  of  his  own  Heart  and  Life.'  And  so  it  is. 
It  is  a  book  of  such  intricacy  and  sinuosity  and  com- 
plication and  reticulation  and  involution,  that  in  all  my 
experience  of  such  books  it  stands  simply  unparalleled 
and  unapproached.  No  labyrinth  ever  constructed  by 
the  brain  of  man  comes  near  the  heart  of  Brea.  Not 
even  that  wonder  of  the  world  the  labyrinth  of  Egypt 
with  its  three  thousand  secret  chambers.  Not  even  the 
Cretan  labyrinth  of  Daedalus  with  its  blood-thirsty 
monster  at  its  centre,  and  with  only  a  thin  linen  thread 
to  lead  you  out  through  its  endless  tortuosities  to  the 


JAMES  FRASER  151 

open  air.  AH  that  is  but  a  faint  and  feeble  description 
of  the  always  spiritually  intricate  book  that  Eraser  of 
Brea  has  bequeathed  to  his  fellow-countrymen  and  his 
fellow-churchmen.  To  as  many  of  them,  that  is,  as  have 
an  intricate  life  of  their  own,  and  a  labyrinthine  heart 
of  their  own.  And  among  the  thousands  of  his  Christian 
fellow-countrymen  in  our  day,  there  must  surely  be 
some  men  still  left  with  something  of  the  intellectual 
strength,  and  the  spiritual  inwardness,  and  the  experi- 
mental concentration,  and  the  holy  fear  and  the  close 
walk  with  God,  of  the  Laird  of  Brea.  Some  men  who 
will  feel  that  they  are  not  such  absolute  monsters  among 
men,  and  so  much  alone  in  Scotland,  as  they  always 
thought  they  were  till  they  were  told  about  James 
Eraser,  the  Laird  of  Brea.  Well  may  Dr.  Elder  Gumming 
say  that  Brea's  is  a  book  to  be  read  by  all  men  with 
wonder  and  with  awe  ;  and,  I  will  add,  to  be  read  by 
some  men  with  an  ever-increasing  thankfulness  and  an 
ever-increasing  hopefulness.  Yes,  well  might  liis  old 
publisher  in  first  venturing  Brea's  autobiography  out 
on  the  market  go  on  to  say  :  '  There  is  perhaps  no  other 
Performance  giving  a  more  distinct  Account  of  a  super- 
natural Work  of  Grace.  And  it  is  thought  not  to  be 
unseasonable  at  this  juncture  for  reviving  Piety  and  the 
Exercise  of  Grace,  and  convicting  those  who  make  a  jest 
of  these  serious  Matters.' 

Now  in  summing  up  all  I  have  already  said  about 
Eraser  and  his  autobiography,  I  will  say  a  single  word 
here  about  the  immense  importance  of  intellect  in  our 
evangelical  preachers  and  experimental  writers.  And 
instead  of  any  weak  words  of  my  own  on  that  matter, 
take  these  so  fresh  and  so  pointed  words  of  Santa  Teresa  : 
'  I  always  had  a  great  respect  and  affection  for  intellectual 
and  learned  men,'  she  says.     '  It  is  my  experience  that 


152  JAMES  FRASER 

all  who  intend  to  be  true  Christians  will  do  well  to  treat 
with  men  of  mind  when  they  are  being  deeply  exercised 
about  their  souls.  The  more  intellect  and  the  more 
learning  our  preachers  and  pastors  have,  the  better. 
The  devil  is  exceedingly  afraid  of  learning,  especially 
when  it  is  accompanied  with  great  humility  and  great 
virtue.  Let  no  one  be  taken  into  this  religious  house 
of  ours  unless  she  is  a  w^oman  of  a  sound  understanding. 
For  if  she  is  without  mind,  she  will  neither  know  herself 
nor  will  she  understand  her  best  teachers.  And  ignor- 
ance and  self-conceit  is  a  disease  that  is  simply  incurable. 
And,  besides,  it  usually  carries  great  malice  and  great 
malignity  along  with  it.  Commend  me  to  people  with 
good  heads.  From  all  silly  devotees  may  God  deliver 
me  ! '  Had  Santa  Teresa  lived  in  Scotland  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  she  would  to  a  certainty  have  taken  a 
house  at  Culross  in  order  to  sit  under  Fraser's  ministry. 
Nay,  she  would  to  a  certainty  have  taken  service  as  a 
scullery-maid  on  the  Bass  Rock  just  to  be  under  the  same 
roof  with  a  man  of  such  learning  and  such  intellect  in  his 
religion  ;  and  a  man,  at  the  same  time,  of  such  a  broken 
heart  in  his  daily  devotions. 

And,  then,  one  of  the  best  of  intellects  of  that  intel- 
lectual day  is  here  to  be  seen  employed,  exclusively  and 
unceasingly,  upon  what  its  owner  conceived  to  be  the 
best,  the  noblest,  and  the  most  commanding  of  all 
occupations — the  salvation  of  Ms  own  soul ;  and  in  and 
after  that  the  same  salvation  of  other  men's  souls.  Let 
a  man  constantly  examine  himself  on  that  supreme 
matter,  says  the  Apostle.  Well,  James  Eraser  has  only 
one  fault  in  that  respect :  he  takes  the  Apostle  much 
too  seriously  and  much  too  literally,  for  he  is  always  and 
in  everything  examining  himself.  Whether  Paul  would 
have  praised  Eraser  or  blamed  him  for  that  incessant 


JAMES  FRASER  153 

introspection  of  his,  you  have  your  opinion,  and  I  have 
mine.  Watch  and  pray,  says  our  Lord  also.  Well, 
did  any  of  the  twelve  do  that  like  the  Laird  of  Brea  ? 
No,  I  am  quite  sure  that  none  of  them  did — not,  at 
any  rate,  to  begin  with.  '  My  people  do  not  consider,' 
complained  the  God  of  covenanted  Israel.  Now,  our 
complaint  here  again  with  Eraser  is  this,  that  he  con- 
sidered too  much,  and  that  he  would  do  nothing  else  all 
his  days  but  consider  inwardly  and  then  act  outwardly. 
Eraser  believed  with  all  his  deep  mind  and  with  all  his 
renewed  heart  that  there  was  but  one  thing  absolutely 
and  supremely  necessary  as  between  him  and  his  God  ; 
and  he  wrote  his  book  and  lived  his  life  accordingly. 
In  season  and  out  of  season  Eraser  of  Brea  pursued  that 
one  thing  with  an  intricacy,  and  with  a  tenacity,  and 
with  a  perspicuity  unparalleled  in  all  my  reading  or 
hearing  of  such  men  and  such  matters. 

And  then  I  have  this  also  for  my  defence  and  apology 
in  taking  up  such  an  out-of-date  man — Eraser  of  Brea 
is  one  of  ourselves.  He  is  one  of  our  own  covenanted 
household  of  faith.  He  is  one  of  our  own  cloud  of 
witnesses.  '  PeoiDle  are  variously  constituted,'  says  Dr. 
Newman  in  an  exquisite  essay.  '  What  influences  one 
man  does  not  in  the  same  way  or  to  the  same  extent 
influence  another  man.  What  I  delight  to  trace,'  he 
says,  '  and  to  study,  is  the  interior  life  of  God's  great 
saints.  And  when  a  great  saint  himself  speaks  to  me 
about  himself,  that  is  what  I  Hke  best,  and  that  is  what 
is  done  by  those  early  luminaries  of  the  Christian  Church, 
Athanasius,  and  Hilary,  and  Ambrose,  and  Theodoret. 
This  is  why  I  exult  in  the  folios  of  the  Eathers.  I  am 
not  obliged  to  read  the  whole  of  them.  I  read  what  I 
can,  and  am  content.'  And  if  I  may  be  bold  enough  to 
borrow  that  from  Newman,  I  shall  be  loyal  enough  to 


154  JAMES  FllASER 

apply  that  to  myself  and  to  say  that  that  is  the  very 
same  reason  why  I  so  exult  in  Bunyan,  and  in  Baxter, 
and  in  Goodwin,  and  in  Brea,  and  in  Halyburton,  and 
in  Boston,  and  in  Chalmers  :  a  body  of  men  who,  as 
Coleridge  has  it,  are,  for  the  matter  in  hand,  worth  a 
whole  brigade  of  the  Fathers.  At  the  same  time,  I  do 
not  forget  that  people  are  very  variously  constituted. 
What  influences  one  does  not  in  the  same  way  influence 
another.  Nor  am  I  obliged  to  read  the  whole  of  our 
evangelical  and  experimental  and  Puritan  Fathers.  I 
read  what  I  can,  and  am  content ;  or  rather,  I  for  one 
exult — and  then,  as  a  wise  old  writer  has  it,  '  the  judicious 
are  fond  of  originals.'  And  then,  as  to  the  reward  that 
we  may  confidently  look  for  from  our  study  of  Eraser's 
autobiography.  In  his  dedication  to  Thomas  Ross  of 
Tain,  our  author  says  :  '  I  have  in  nothing  been  more 
refreshed,  quickened,  and  edified  than  by  hearing  and 
reading  of  the  experiences  of  others  of  God's  people,  and 
in  nothing  more  comforted  and  sanctified  than  by  a 
serious  recalling  to  mind  of  the  Lord's  intricate  dealings 
with  myself.'  And  far  on  in  the  body  of  the  book  he 
returns  to  that  subject,  and  says  :  '  The  calling  to  mind 
and  seriously  meditating  on  the  Lord's  secret  dealings  with 
myself  as  to  soul  and  body  ;  my  recalling  of  His  manifold 
and  intimate  mercies  to  me  has  done  me  very  much  good  ; 
has  cleared  my  case  ;  has  confirmed  my  soul  concerning 
God's  love  to  me,  and  of  my  interest  in  Him  ;  and  has 
made  me  love  Him  more  and  more.  O  what  good  hath 
the  writing  of  this  book  of  my  Memoirs  done  me  !  What 
wells  of  water  have  mine  eyes  been  opened  to  see  that 
before  were  hid  from  me  !  Scarce  anything  hath  done 
me  more  good  than  the  writing  of  this  book  ! '  And  I 
will  say  that  scarce  anything  hath  done  the  writer  of 
this  Appreciation  more  good  than  the  reading  of  such 


JAMES  FRASER  155 

chapters  in  this  book  as  these  :  i.,  iv.,  vi.,  xiii.,  xvi., 
xviii.,  XX.,  xxiv.,  and  three  times  as  many  and  all  as 
good.  Till  this  line  about  a  great  man  in  a  very- 
different  dispensation  comes  to  my  mind — '  Probed  many 
hearts,  beginning  with  his  own.' 


THOMAS    GOODWINi 

Gentlemen,  I  have  long  looked  for  a  suitable  oi^portunity 
of  acknowledging  an  old  debt  of  mine  to  a  favourite 
author  of  mine.  But  when  I  proceed  to  pay  a  little  of 
that  old  debt  to-day  I  am  not  to  be  supposed  to  put  any 
of  you  into  that  same  author's  debt.  All  I  wish  to  do 
to-day  is  for  once  to  make  full  and  heartfelt  acknow- 
ledgment of  my  own  deep  debt  to  that  author,  and  then 
to  urge  you  all  to  get  into  some  such  relation  of  indebted- 
ness to  some  great  authors  of  past  days  or  of  the  present 
day. 

It  was  in  my  third  year  at  the  University  that  I  first 
became  acquainted  with  Thomas  Goodwin.  On  opening 
the  Witness  newspaper  one  propitious  morning  my  eye 
fell  on  the  announcement  of  a  new  edition  of  Thomas 
Goodwin's  works.  I  entered  my  name  at  once  as  a 
subscriber  to  the  series,  and  not  long  after  the  first 
volume  of  Goodwin's  Works  came  into  my  hands.  And  I 
will  here  say  with  simple  truth  that  his  Works  have 
never  been  out  of  my  hands  down  to  this  day.  In  those 
far-off  years  I  read  my  Goodwin  every  Sabbath  morning 
and  every  Sabbath  night.  Goodwin  was  my  every 
Sabbath  day  meat  and  my  every  Sabbath  day  drink. 
And  during  my  succeeding  years  as  a  student,  and  as  a 
young  minister,  I  carried  about  a  volume  of  Goodwin 
with  me  wherever  I  went.  I  read  him  in  railway  carriages 
1  Originally  an  Adilro.^s  lo  New  College  Students. 


158  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

and  on  steamboats.  I  read  him  at  home  and  abroad. 
I  read  him  on  my  hoHdays  among  tlie  Scottish  Grampians 
and  among  the  Swiss  Alps.  I  carried  his  volumes  about 
with  me  till  they  fell  out  of  their  original  cloth  binding, 
and  till  I  got  my  bookbinder  to  put  them  into  his  best 
morocco.  I  have  read  no  other  author  so  much  and  so 
often.  And  I  continue  to  read  him  to  this  day,  as  if  I 
had  never  read  him  before.  Now,  if  I  were  to  say  such 
things  as  these  about  some  of  the  Greek  or  Latin  or 
Enghsh  classics,  you  would  receive  it  as  a  matter  of 
course.  But  why  should  I  not  say  the  simple  truth 
about  the  greatest  pulpit  master  of  Pauline  exegesis  and 
homiletic  that  has  ever  lived,  and  who  has  been  far  more 
to  me  than  all  those  recognised  classics  taken  together  ? 

It  was  a  great  time,  gentlemen,  when  I  was  attending 
the  University  and  New  College.  The  works  of  Dickens 
and  Thackeray  were  then  appearing  in  monthly  parts. 
The  Bronte  family  were  at  their  best.  George  Eliot 
was  writing  in  Blackwood.  Carlyle  was  at  the  height 
of  his  influence  and  renown.  Ruskin,  Macaulay,  Tenny- 
son, and  Browning  were  in  everybody's  hands.  And  I 
read  them  all  as  I  had  time  and  opportunity.  But  I 
read  none  of  them  all  as  I  read  Goodwn.  He  is  not  to 
be  named  beside  them  as  literature.  No.  But  then 
they  are  not  to  be  named  beside  him  as  religion.  Masters 
in  their  own  departments  as  they  all  are,  yet  none  of 
them  laid  out  their  genius  upon  Paul,  nor  upon  Paul's 
supreme  subject — Jesus  Christ  and  His  salvation.  And, 
therefore,  though  I  read  them  all  and  enjoyed  them  all 
in  their  measure,  yet,  as  Augustine  says  about  some  of 
the  best  classics  of  Greece  and  Rome,  since  the  Name 
of  Jesus  Christ  was  not  to  be  found  in  them,  none  of 
them  all  took  such  complete  possession  of  me  as  did 
Thomas  Goodwin,  the  great  Pauline  exegete. 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  159 

I  frankly  confess  to  you  that  I  sometimes  say  to 
myself  that  I  must  surely  be  all  wrong  in  my  estimate 
of  Goodwin's  worth,  else  some  one  besides  myself  would 
sometimes  be  found  to  mention  his  name  with  some 
honour.  But  when  I  am  led  to  open  Goodwin  again 
all  my  old  love  for  him  returns  to  me,  and  all  my  old 
indebtedness  and  devotion  to  him,  till  I  give  myself  up 
again  to  his  incomparable  power  and  incomparable 
sweetness  as  an  expounder  of  Paul  and  as  a  preacher  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

Thomas  Goodwin  was  born  October  the  5th,  1600, 
at  Rollesby,  a  Httle  village  in  Norfolk.  He  was  brought 
up  with  great  care  by  his  Puritan  parents,  who  had  from 
his  birth  devoted  him  to  the  Christian  ministry.  He 
was  educated  at  Cambridge,  where  he  attained  to  great 
proficiency  in  Hebrew  and  Greek  and  Latin,  and  he 
kept  up  his  reading  in  those  three  languages  to  the 
end  of  his  life,  and  to  the  lasting  enriching  and  adorning 
of  his  pulpit  work.  '  By  an  unwearied  industry  in  his 
studies,'  says  one  of  his  biographers,  '  Goodwin  so  much 
improved  those  natural  abilities  that  God  had  given 
him,  that,  though  so  very  young,  he  gained  for  himself 
a  great  esteem  at  the  University.  But  all  the  time,' 
adds  his  biographer,  '  he  walked  in  the  vanity  of  his 
mind,  and  ambitious  hopes  and  selfish  designs  entirely 
possessing  him,  all  his  aim  was  to  get  applause,  and  to 
raise  his  reputation,  and  in  any  manner  to  advance 
himself  by  preferment.  But,'  adds  his  biographer, 
'  God,  who  had  designed  Goodwin  to  higher  ends  than 
those  he  projected  in  his  own  thoughts,  was  graciously 
pleased  to  change  his  heart  and  to  turn  the  course  of 
his  life  to  the  divine  service  and  to  the  divine  glory.' 

After  his  conversion,  Goodwin  attached  himself  openly 
and  boldly  to  the  Puritan  party  in  the  University,  and 


160  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

he  remained  one  of  the  great  pillars  of  that  party  as  long 
as  he  lived.  He  was  wont  to  say  that  it  was  his  deep 
reading  of  his  own  heart,  taken  along  with  his  deep 
reading  of  his  New  Testament,  that  made  him  and  kept 
him  an  evangelical  Puritan  through  all  the  intellectual 
and  ecclesiastical  vicissitudes  of  liis  after  life.  Owing 
to  Archbishop  Laud's  persecution  of  the  evangelical 
party  in  the  English  Church,  Goodwin  was  compelled 
to  resign  all  his  ecclesiastical  appointments,  and  to  take 
refuge  in  Holland.  By  this  time  his  scriptural  and 
historical  studies  had  made  him  a  convinced  Independent, 
both  in  politics  and  in  Church  government.  And  he 
was  looked  on  and  spoken  of  as  the  '  Atlas  of  Independ- 
ency '  all  through  the  coming  years  of  such  debate  and 
controversy  in  connection  with  Church  constitution  and 
Church  government.  After  Laud  fell  Goodwin  was  able 
to  return  to  England.  He  settled  in  London,  where  his 
unparalleled  power  in  the  pulpit  soon  gathered  a  large 
and  influential  congregation  around  him.  His  epitaph 
in  Bunhill  Fields  excellently  sums  up  his  services  and 
his  character :  '  Here  lies  the  Body  of  Thomas 
Goodwin,  D.D.  He  had  a  large  acquaintance  with 
ancient,  and,  above  all,  with  Ecclesiastical  Histor3^ 
He  was  exceeded  by  no  one  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  He  was  at  once  blessed  with  a  rich 
invention  and  a  solid  and  exact  judgment.  He  care- 
fully compared  together  the  different  parts  of  Holy  Writ, 
and  with  a  marvellous  felicity  discovered  the  latent 
sense  of  the  divine  Spirit  who  indited  them.  None 
ever  entered  deeper  into  the  mysteries  of  the  Gospel, 
or  more  clearly  unfolded  them  for  the  benefit  of  others. 
...  In  knowledge,  wisdom,  and  eloquence  he  was  a 
truly  Christian  pastor.  .  .  .  Till  having  finished  his 
appointed   course,   both   of   services   and   of   sufferings, 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  161 

in  the  cause  of  his  divine  Master,  he  gently  fell  asleep  in 
Jesus.  His  writings  that  he  has  left  behind  him  will 
diffuse  his  name  in  a  more  fragrant  odour  than  that  of 
the  richest  perfume.  His  name  will  flourish  in  far 
distant  ages,  when  this  marble,  inscribed  with  his  just 
honour,  shall  have  dropt  into  dust.  He  died  February 
23rd,  1679,  in  the  eightieth  year  of  his  age.' 

Goodwin's   works  in  their  original  editions   occupied 
five  massive  folio  volumes.     '  And,'  says  Andrew  Bonar, 
in   one   of   his   learned   notes   to   Rutherford's   Letters, 
'  they  are  five  invaluable  volumes.'     In  the  Edinburgh 
edition    the    whole    works    fill    twelve    closely    printed 
octavo   volumes.     The   first   volume   of   the   Edinburgh 
reprint  is  wholly  occupied  with  thirty-six  sermons  on 
the   first   chapter  of   Paul's   Epistle   to   the   Ephesians. 
The  Ephesians  was  the  Apostle's  favourite  Epistle,  and 
it    was    also    Goodwin's     favourite    Epistle.       I    know 
nothing  anywhere  at  all  to  compare  with  this  splendid 
exposition,  unless  it  is  Bishop  Davenant  on  the  Epistle  to 
the  Colossians  or  Archbishop  Leighton  on  First  Peter. 
Goodwin  cannot  be  said  to  have  the  classical  compression, 
nor  has  he  the  classical  finish  that  so  delight  us  in  all 
Leighton's  literature.     But  there  is  a  grappling  power  ; 
there  is  '  a  studying  down  '  of  the  passage  in  hand  and, 
withal,  there  is  a  height,  and  a  dejjth,  and  a  fertilising 
suggestiveness  in  Goodwin  that  neither  Davenant  nor 
Leighton  possesses.    For  a  specimen  of  this  golden  volume 
take  the  expository  sermon  on  the  words  :    '  Blessed  be 
the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  hath 
blessed  us  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly  places 
in  Christ ' ;    or  the  sermon  on  the  words  :    '  Holy  and 
without  blame  before  Him  in  love  ' ;    or  the  sermon  on 
'  Sealed    with    the    Holy    Spirit ' ;     and    in    those    great 
sermons  you  have  noble  examples  of  the  height  to  which 

L 


162  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

the  Puritan  pulpit  could  rise.  Than  Thomas  Goodwin's 
twenty-six  pages  on  '  the  sealing  of  believers,'  I  know 
nothing  deeper,  nothing  sweeter,  nothing  more  capti- 
vating and  enthralhng  in  the  whole  range  of  our 
exegetical  and  homiletical  literature.  I  would  almost 
venture  to  set  those  divine  pages  as  the  test  of  a  divinity 
student's  spiritual  experience,  spiritual  insight,  and 
spiritual  capacity  for  opening  up  to  a  congregation  the 
deep  things  of  God.  To  the  wonderful  sermon  on 
'  Christ  dwelling  in  our  hearts  by  faith  '  you  must  bring 
your  most  disciplined  theological  mind,  and  your  most 
deeply  exercised  Christian  heart.  For  myself,  when  I 
am  again  reading  that  superb  sermon  I  always  set  it 
down  in  my  mind  beside  Hooker's  immortal  sermon, 
'  Of  Justification,'  as  two  of  the  greatest,  if  not  the  two 
very  greatest  sermons  in  the  English  language.  But 
how  Hooker's  people  or  how  Goodwin's  people  could 
have  followed  such  powerful  and  such  soaring  sermons, 
I  cannot  imagine.  It  is  hard  enough  work  to  follow 
them  and  to  master  them  even  when  they  are  read  and 
re-read  in  the  leisure  of  the  study.  I  will  leave  what 
I  have  said  about  the  specimen  sermons  I  have  selected 
out  of  Goodwin's  Ephesians  with  this  fine  saying  of 
Hazlitt  about  Burke  :  '  The  only  adequate  specimen  of 
Burke,'  said  Hazlitt,  '  is  all  that  the  greatest  of  English 
statesmen  has  ever  written.'  And  with  this  out  of 
Coleridge  :  '  How  Luther  loved  Paul  !  And  how  Paul 
would  have  loved  Luther  !  '  So  will  I  say  :  How  he 
would  have  loved  Goodwin  !  And  that  not  without 
good  reason.  For  not  even  Luther  on  the  Galatians  is 
such  an  expositor  of  Paul's  mind  and  heart  as  is  Goodwin 
on  the  Ephesians. 

Goodwin's  second  volume  contains  his  famous  sermon 
on  what  he  calls  '  the  strangest  paradox  ever  uttered.' 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  168 

That  strangest  of  paradoxes  is  the  passage  in  which  the 
Apostle  James  tells  the  twelve  tribes  to  count  it  all  joy 
when  they  fall  into  divers  trials  or  temptations.  Good- 
win's loss  of  his  valuable  library  in  the  great  fire  of 
London  was  the  occasion  of  his  remarkable  discourse 
entitled  Patience  and  her  Perfect  Work.  In  that  great 
calamity  our  author  lost  £500  worth  of  selected  and 
cherished  books ;  a  greater  loss  to  such  a  student  than  any 
number  of  pounds  could  calculate.  '  I  have  heard  my 
father  say  that  God  had  struck  him  in  a  very  sensible 
place.  But  that  since  he  loved  his  books  much  too 
well,  so  God  had  sharply  chastised  him  by  this  sore 
affliction.'  This  recalls  to  my  mind  what  Dr.  Duncan 
of  this  college  was  wont  to  say  :  '  My  Semitic  books,' 
he  said,  '  are  my  besetting  sin.'  But,  as  God  would 
have  it,  out  of  the  redhot  ashes  of  Goodwin's  burncd-up 
books  there  sprang  up  a  sermon  that  has  been  the 
calming  and  the  consolation  of  multitudes  amid  crosses 
and  losses  such  that,  but  for  Goodwin's  teaching  and 
example,  would  have  comiDletely  crushed  and  over- 
whelmed them. 

The  third  volume  contains  '  An  Exposition  of  the 
Book  of  Revelation,'  which  is  followed  by  '  Three  Select 
Cases  Resolved.'  And  Goodwin's  Three  Cases  are  as 
lastingly  valuable  to  me  as  his  Revelation  is  worthless. 
Goodwin  warns  his  readers  that  some  of  them  may  find 
his  Revelation  somewhat  '  craggy  and  tiresome.'  And 
I  am  fain  to  confess  that  I  am  one  of  those  readers.  The 
true  key  to  the  Book  of  Revelation  had  not  been  dis- 
covered in  Goodwin's  day.  And,  therefore,  I  thankfully 
accept  his  offered  permission  to  leave  his  Revelation 
alone.  But  if  his  Revelation  is  '  craggy  and  tiresome  ' 
to  me,  his  '  Select  Cases  '  are  everything  but  that.  The 
truth  is,  there  is  no  part  of  Goodwin's  twelve  volumes 


164  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

that  has  been  more  thumbed  by  me  from  my  youth  up 
than  just  his  '  Three  Select  Cases.'  The  ablest,  the  most 
scholarly,  the  most  elaborate,  and,  I  need  not  say,  the 
most  eloquent  book  of  case-divinity  in  the  English 
language,  is  Jeremy  Taylor's  Ductor  Dubitantium.  The 
Dudor  is  a  book  that  every  divinity  student  ought  to 
read  once  at  any  rate  in  his  lifetime,  even  if  he  finds 
it  also  to  be  somewhat  craggy  and  tiresome  in  some 
parts.  But  if  he  reads  Goodwin's  '  Select  Cases  '  once, 
and  if  he  needs  them  as  much  as  I  do,  they  will  never 
be  long  out  of  his  hands.  '  Likewise,  at  the  same  time,' 
says  James  Fraser  of  Brea,  '  I  received  much  knowledge 
and  much  comfort  from  Mr.  Goodwin's  works,  especially 
from  his  Growth  in  Grace.  For  that  book  of  his  answered 
to  the  frame  of  my  heart  as  face  answers  to  face.'  '  The 
Three  Select  Cases  '  are  :  '  A  Child  of  Light  Walking  in 
Darkness,'  '  The  Return  of  Prayers,'  and  '  The  Trial  of  a 
Christian's  Growth.' 

'  The  Heart  of  Christ  in  Heaven  towards  Sinners  on 
Earth  '  is  the  gem  of  the  fourth  volume.  And  it  is  a 
gem  of  the  purest  water,  if  I  am  any  judge.  If  any 
enterprising  student  who  now  hears  me  is  interested,  or 
ever  becomes  interested,  in  the  philosophical  and  theo- 
logical controversy  that  raged  round  Mansel's  famous 
Bampton  Lectures  in  my  New  College  days,  he  will 
find  the  roots  of  that  whole  debate  dealt  with,  again 
and  again,  in  a  most  masterly  way  in  this  profound 
volume.  It  is  such  pages  as  occur,  again  and  again,  in 
this  volume,  that  have  won  for  Goodwin  the  fame  of 
being  the  most  philosophical  theologian  of  all  the 
Puritans.  And  every  one  who  knows  the  works  of  the 
great  Puritans  will  recognise  how  high  that  praise  of 
Goodwin  is.  Hooker,  in  some  important  respects, 
comes  up  closer  to  the  full  truth  about  the  Heart  of 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  163 

Christ  in  Heaven  than  even  Goodwin  does.  And  it 
does  not  need  to  be  said  that  the  greatest  theologian  of 
the  Enghsh  Church  clothes  his  great  teaching  here,  as 
everywhere,  in  the  noblest  English  ever  written.  At 
the  same  time,  Goodwin  is  unapproached  here,  as  so 
often  elsewhere,  in  his  combination  of  intellectual  and 
theological  power  with  evangelical  and  homiletical 
comfort.  Take  them  together  on  this  supremest  of 
subjects,  and  Hooker  and  Goodwin  will  form  an  inex- 
haustible equipment  for  any  man  whose  ofRce  and 
calling  it  is  to  preach  Jesus  Christ  in  His  life  on  earth, 
and  in  His  eternal  priesthood  in  heaven. 

Speaking  about  Hooker,  the  Fifth  Book  of  the 
Ecclesiastical  Polity  contains  some  of  the  very  noblest 
things  that  have  ever  been  written  on  that  great  mystery 
of  godliness,  '  God  manifest  in  the  flesh  '  ;  and  that  in 
language  not  wholly  unworthy  of  that  noblest  of  subjects. 
Unhappily  for  English  Church  doctrine  and  discipline, 
Hooker's  incomparable  Christology  always  ends  in  pure 
sacramentalism.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  happily  for 
the  evangelical  faith,  Goodwin's  fifth  volume  is  full  of 
the  purest  and  strongest  and  sweetest  New  Testament 
truth.  Christ  the  Mediator  is  the  all-comprehending 
title  of  this  massive  and  most  scriptural  book.  And 
throughout,  this  grand  subject  is  grappled  with,  and 
is  handled,  as  only  Goodwin  can  grapple  with  and  handle 
Paul.  And  then  every  chapter  is  carried  down  into  the 
hearts  of  his  hearers  and  readers  with  that  powerful, 
and  at  the  same  time  tender,  homiletic  of  which  Goodwin 
is  such  a  master. 

The  chapters  in  the  sixth  volume  to  which  I  oftcnest 
turn  are  those  on  True  Spirituality  ;  on  true  and  pure 
scriptural  and  evangelical  spirituality ;  what  it  is ; 
and  why  and  how  it  is  what  it  is  ;    on  spiritual  persons 


166  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

and  spiritual  things  ;  and  on  the  supreme  blessedness  of 
the  truly  spiritual  mind.  The  chapters  on  conscience 
in  the  sixth  volume  are  simply  masterly,  even  to  this 
day.  Neither  Sanderson,  nor  Taylor,  nor  Butler,  nor 
Chalmers,  nor  Maurice,  nor  all  of  them  taken  together, 
have  superseded  Goodwin.  I  speak  only  of  the  authors 
I  know  somewhat  well  when  I  say  that  none  of  them 
comes  near  Goodwin  for  powerfulness,  for  subtlety,  for 
finality,  and  best  of  all,  for  evangelical  impressiveness  and 
for  pulpit  fruitfulness.  I  know  what  I  say,  and  you  may 
believe  me — Butler  on  conscience,  and  Chalmers  on 
Butler,  and  then  Goodwin  after  them,  these  three 
masters  will  furnish  out  a  young  preacher  with  a  doctrine 
and  a  homiletic  of  conscience  that  will  be  like  iron  in  his 
own  blood  and  in  the  blood  of  all  who  sit  under  him. 

By  men  who  know  what  they  say  on  such  matters, 
Goodwin  has  been  appreciated  and  eulogised  as  by  far 
the  most  philosophically  minded  of  all  the  Puritans. 
Let  the  great  treatise  in  his  seventh  volume,  '  Of  the 
Creatures,  and  the  condition  of  their  state  by  Nature,' 
be  read  in  proof  of  tliis  eulogium.  Even  in  these 
Darwinian  days,  when  '  Adam  '  has  been  dissolved  and 
distributed  into  so  many  protoplasms,  and  potencies, 
and  preludes  of  the  human  being  who  was  to  come  in 
the  far  future,  I  am  bold  to  recommend  Goodwin's 
seventh  volume  to  all  serious-minded  students  of  Moses, 
and  of  Paul,  and  of  themselves. 

Editing  the  eighth  volume,  Goodwdn's  dutiful  son 
says  of  it :  '  In  this  book  of  my  father's  you  have  the 
infinite  mercy  of  the  divine  nature  displayed  as  far  as 
human  thought  and  human  language  can  reach.  And 
what  you  here  possess  in  my  poor  English  does  not  at 
all  reach  the  rich  eloquence  of  his  Latin.'  So  far  Good- 
win's grateful  son.     But  take  the  eighth  volume  from 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  167 

mc,  and  in  this  way.  We  sometimes  entertain  one 
another  by  disclosing  what  author  and  what  book  of 
his  we  Avould  select  to  take  away  with  us  if  we  were 
banished  to  a  desert  island,  and  were  only  allowed  one 
author.  One  says  that  he  would  take  Homer,  another 
says  Dante,  and  another  Milton.  Almost  every  one 
says  Shakespeare.  Now  to  emjiloy  one  of  Goodwin's 
own  expressions — would  you  count  me  utterly  '  uncouth 
and  extravagant '  if  I  said  that  I  would  take  Goodwin's 
eighth  volume  with  me  to  my  island  ?  Whatever  you 
count  me,  it  is  true,  and  I  have  done  it,  and  that  more 
than  once.  '  I  write  this  book,'  says  its  author,  '  for 
the  use  of  thoroughly  humbled  and  thoroughly  broken 
hearts.'  And  you  will  all  admit  that  till  a  man's  heart 
is  thoroughly  humbled  and  thoroughly  broken  he  is  not 
a  fit  judge  of  the  books  that  contrite  men  should  select 
to  take  with  them  to  read,  whether  on  an  island  or  on  a 
continent.  The  great  acknowledgment  I  have  to  make 
concerning  Goodwin's  eighth  volume  is  this.  I  had 
often  read  the  thirty-fourth  of  Exodus  before  ever  I 
came  upon  Goodwin's  exposition  of  that  great  fountain- 
head  of  Old  Testament  grace  and  truth.  But  from  the 
day  when  I  first  read  Goodwin's  epoch-making  discourses 
on  that  wonderful  chapter,  it  has  been  a  source  of  daily 
salvation  and  of  daily  song  to  me.  Yes,  I  am  quite  safe 
to  say  that  for  fifty  years  I  have  never  seen  the  day  that 
'  the  Name  of  the  Lord  '  has  not  been  a  strong  tower 
to  me,  and  all  owing  to  Thomas  Goodwin's  exposition  of 
that  great  Name.  '  Thank  you,  sir,'  writes  one  of  our 
ministers  to  me  ;  '  thank  you  for  urging  us  to  study 
Goodwin.     Nowadays  he  is  never  out  of  my  hands.' 

After  you  have  read  his  ninth  volume,  '  On  Election,' 
you  will  confess  that  amid  much  that  is  somewhat 
'  craggy  and    tiresome  '  to   you,  at  the  same  time  you 


168  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

have  come  upon  chapters  that  only  Goodwin  could  have 
written,  notably  those  chapters  on  the  election  of  Christ 
Himself,  and  on  your  election  in  Him.  As  also  the 
specially  Goodwinian  Book  iv.  on  1  Peter  v.  10.  Indeed, 
I  will  stake  all  I  have  ever  said  about  Goodwin  on  this 
book  :  that  is  to  say,  when  the  book  comes  into  the 
hands  of  the  prepared  and  proper  reader. 

His  tenth  volume  is  a  comprehensive  treatise  on  the 
Prophetic,  Apostolic,  and  Puritan  anthropology.  It 
cannot  be  denied  that  this  treatise  is  somewhat  sombre 
and  even  solemnising  and  overawing  reading.  But  it 
would  not  be  true  to  mankind  if  it  were  not  both  sombre 
and  solemnising  and  overawing.  The  whole  volume  is 
an  exhaustive  and  a  conclusive  answer  to  the  Catechism 
question  :  '  Wherein  consists  the  sinfulness  of  that 
estate  whereinto  man  fell  ?  '  And  once  mastered  by  the 
true  student  this  massive  treatise  will  remain  a  quarry 
of  scriptural  and  experimental  material  both  for  his 
personal  religion  and  for  his  pulpit  work. 

The  eleventh  volume  contains  an  elaborate  treatise 
on  '  The  Constitution,  Right  Order,  and  Government  of 
the  Churches  of  Christ.'  As  to  the  manner  in  which 
Goodwin's  defence  of  Independency,  and  his  assault  on 
Presbytery  and  Episcopacy  is  conducted,  I  will  let  the 
author's  son  speak  :  '  Here,'  says  young  Goodwin,  '  is 
no  pride  nor  arrogance.  Here  are  no  reproaches,  no 
base  and  sly  insinuations,  none  of  those  invidious  reflec- 
tions with  which  controversies  are  usually  managed. 
But  here  are  sober  thoughts,  calm  reasonings,  and  the 
truth  showing  itself  in  such  a  mild  and  lovely  aspect  as 
may  create  inclinations  to  it  in  the  souls  of  all  persons 
whom  passion  or  interest  have  not  too  much  prejudiced.' 
So  speaks  an  able  and  a  loyal  son  about  the  only  polemical 
work  of  his  father.     There  is  no  doubt  that  this  elaborate 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  169 

volume  will  greatly  fortify  the  Independent  who  reads 
it,  and  there  is  as  little  doubt  that  it  will  both  open  the 
mind  and  reward  the  heart  of  the  Presbyterian  and  the 
Prelatist  who  has  the  patience  and  the  sympathy  to 
master  it.  '  A  truly  great  and  noble  spirit,'  is  the  verdict 
of  a  Presbyterian  of  that  day,  who  felt  bound  to  attempt 
a  reply  to  Goodwin's  eleventh  volume.  For  myself,  I 
do  not  think  that  any  one  but  Goodwin  would  have 
induced  me  to  read  a  volume  on  Church  government  of 
five  hundred  pages  again,  and  again,  and  again.  To 
me  that  endless  debate  has  little  or  no  real  and  immediate 
interest,  though  I  still  believe  in  the  apostolicity  of 
Presbytery,  even  after  reading  both  Hooker  and  Goodwin 
again  and  again.  But  what  takes  me  back  to  both  these 
authors  is  the  nobleness  of  the  thought  and  the  style  of 
the  one,  and  the  extraordinary  freshness  and  modcrn- 
ness  of  mind  of  the  other.  But  take  this  on  this  subject 
from  Goodwin's  own  pen  :  '  As  for  my  part,  this  I  say, 
and  I  say  it  with  much  integrity,  I  never  yet  took  up 
party  religion  in  the  lump.  For  I  have  found  by  a  long 
trial  of  such  matters  that  there  is  some  truth  on  all 
sides.  I  have  found  Gospel  holiness  where  you  w^ould 
little  tliink  it  to  be,  and  so  likewise  truth.  And  I  have 
learned  this  principle,  which  I  hope  I  shall  never  lay 
down  till  I  am  swallowed  up  of  immortality,  and  that 
is,  to  acknowledge  every  truth  and  every  goodness 
wherever  I  find  it.' 

As  I  have  all  along  laboured  to  show,  Goodwin  is  always 
an  interpreter,  and  one  of  a  thousand.  So  much  is  this 
the  case  that  he  is  still  an  interpreter  even  when  he  lays 
out  and  executes  his  most  elaborate,  most  confessional 
and  most  dogmatical  works.  I  refer  to  such  confessional 
and  dogmatical  works  of  his  as  The  Mediatorship  of  Christ, 
in  his  fifth  volume  ;   The  Holy  Spirit,  in  his  sixth  volume  ; 


170  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

The  Object  and  the  Acts  of  Faith,  in  his  eighth  volume ; 
and  Election,  in  his  ninth  volume.  Even  when  he  plans 
out  a  great  scheme  of  a  book  on  the  elaborate,  construc- 
tive, and  dogmatic  method  of  his  day,  Goodwin  no  sooner 
commences  the  execution  of  his  plan  than  he  falls  back 
immediately  on  his  own  favourite  method  of  exegesis 
and  exposition  and  homiletic.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
heads  every  successive  chapter,  even  of  his  most  formal 
and  logical  works,  with  some  great  Scripture  that  he 
forthwith  sets  himself  to  expound  and  to  apply.  And 
thus  it  comes  about  that  book  after  book,  and  chapter 
after  chapter,  is  but  another  example  and  illustration  of 
that  endlessly  interesting  method  of  his.  It  cannot  be 
too  much  signalised,  for  it  is  his  outstanding  and  honour- 
able distinction  over  all  the  great  divines  of  his  own  and 
every  other  day,  that  every  head  of  doctrine,  every  pro- 
position of  divinity,  every  chapter  and  every  sentence 
and  every  clause  of  creed  or  catechism  is  taken  up  and  is 
discussed  down  to  the  bottom  by  Goodwin,  not  as  so 
many  abstract,  dogmatical  propositions,  but  as  so  many 
fountain  -  head  passages  of  Holy  Scripture.  All  his 
work,  throughout  all  his  twelve  volumes,  is  just  so  much 
pulpit  exposition  and  pulpit  application  of  the  Word  of 
God.  And  hence  one  great  secret  of  the  incomparable 
vitality,  freshness,  succulence,  richness,  great  home- 
comingness,  great  personal  directness,  and  great  evan- 
gelical fruitfulness  of  all  his  work  in  all  its  parts.  Like 
Paul,  his  master  in  mental  constitution,  in  literary 
method,  and  in  homiletic  urgency,  Goodwin  will  often 
'  go  off  upon  a  word,'  as  Paley  says  somewhat  too  famili- 
arly about  the  Apostle.  And  sometimes,  like  his  master 
in  method,  Goodwin  does  not  soon  return.  But,  like  his 
master  in  this  also,  when  he  does  return  he  returns  laden 
Avith  such  fresh  intellectual  and  spiritual  spoils  as  make 
the  digression  almost  richer  than  the  proper  text. 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  171 

Long  and  elaborate  as  Goodwin's  sermons  undeniably 
were,  had  they  been  measured  by  the  scrimp  and  starved 
standards  of  our  modern  day,  even  so  I  feel  quite  sure 
that  his  sermons  were  not  felt  to  be  too  long  by  those 
hearers  of  his  who  had  mind  enough,  and  imagination 
enough,  and  experience  enough  to  enable  them  to  appreci- 
ate such  a  preacher.  Indeed,  his  pulpit  manner  must 
have  made  his  sermons  singularly  and  endlessly  interesting 
to  those  who  Hstened  to  him.  He  is  so  natural  in  the 
pulpit ;  so  homely,  while  so  dignified  ;  so  unconventional, 
while  so  classical ;  so  affable,  so  confidential,  and  always 
on  such  intimate  terms  with  his  hearers.  He  so  takes 
his  hearers  into  his  confidence  about  his  studies  and  about 
his  sermons.  He  so  shows  them  all  the  processes  and 
operations  of  his  mind  in  the  conception  and  the  composi- 
tion of  his  sermons  ;  he  so  leans  over  the  pulpit  and  takes 
his  hearers  by  the  hand  ;  he  so  speaks  to  them  as  if  they 
were  less  his  hearers  than  his  felloAV-students  ;  he  so 
introduces  them  to  his  favourite  authors  ;  he  so  assumes 
that  they  are  all  as  much  interested  in  his  favourite 
authors  as  he  is  himself  ;  he  so  tells  them  why  he  agrees 
so  wholly  with  this  great  commentator  and  so  wholly 
disagrees  with  that  other  ;  he  so  confesses  to  his  hearers 
all  the  difficulties  and  all  the  perplexities  he  has  had  with 
his  text ;  and  how,  at  last,  he  thinks  he  has  overcome 
those  difficulties  ;  and  then  he  so  puts  it  to  them  if  they 
do  not  all  agree  with  him  in  the  interpretation  that  he  is 
now  putting  upon  the  text.  Full  as  Goodwin  always  is 
of  the  ripest  scriptural  and  Reformation  scholarship ; 
full  as  he  always  is  of  the  best  theological  and  philosophical 
learning  of  his  own  day  and  of  all  foregoing  days  ;  full, 
also,  as  he  always  is  of  the  deepest  spiritual  experience — 
all  the  same,  he  is  always  so  simple,  so  clear,  so  direct,  so 
untechnical,  so  personal,  and  so  pastoral,  in  all  his  pulpit 
work,  that  what  Thomas  Fuller  says  about  Perkins  in  his 


172  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

pulpit  may  be  borrowed  and  applied  to  Goodwin.  '  In 
a  word,'  says  Fuller,  '  Perkins'  church  consisting  of  town 
and  gown,  the  scholar  could  hear  no  learneder,  the 
townsman  no  simpler  or  plainer  sermons.  He  did  distil 
and  soak  so  much  deep  scholarship  into  his  sermons,  yet 
so  insensibly,  that  nothing  but  the  most  familiar  expres- 
sions did  ever  appear.' 

And  then  as  to  his  favourite  authors,  things  like  these 
continually  occur.  '  So  Socrates  was  the  highest  instance 
how  far  the  light  of  nature  could  go.'  '  Plato  thanked 
God  that  he  was  a  man,  an  Athenian,  and  a  philosopher. 
I,  that  I  am  a  Christian.'  '  Aristotle,  that  great  dictator 
of  nature,  hath  a  touch  of  this  notion  in  his  Ethics.^  '  See 
Athanasius  on  this  text  contra  Arianos.'  '  Omnipotente 
suavitate  is  Augustine's  word  for  this  text  on  the  drawing 
of  the  soul  by  Christ.'  '  Suarez  says  this,  and  he  is  one 
of  the  acutest  of  our  new  schoolmen.'  '  Scotus,  the 
wisest  of  the  schoolmen,  and  Bonaventure,  the  holiest 
of  them,  are  of  another  mind.'  '  Luther  radically  altered 
all  his  former  principles  and  practices,  such  was  the  view 
he  got  of  the  sinfulness  of  sin.'  '  Calvin,  that  great  and 
holy  light  of  the  Reformed  Church.'  '  Pollock,  Principal 
of  Edinburgh  University,  in  his  Latin  comments,  and 
in  his  English  sermons.'  '  Worthy  Mr.  Dickson,  also 
of  Scotland.'  '  Gerard,  that  most  judicious  divine.' 
'  Arminius  also  speaks  true.'  '  Zanchius,  that  best  of 
our  Protestant  writers,  and  a  truly  great  divine.'  And 
so  on  ;  I  have  a  thousand  such  references.  Parenthetic- 
ally, and  as  he  passes  on,  he  characterises  and  appreci- 
ates them  all,  as  if,  instead  of  having  an  everyday 
congregation  sitting  before  him,  he  had  an  exegetical  class 
hanging  on  his  learned  and  eloquent  lips.  The  Fathers, 
Greek  and  Latin  ;  the  Schoolmen ;  the  Reformers,  the 
Remonstrants,  the  Anglicans,  the  Arminians,  the  Anti- 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  173 

nomians,  the  Socinians,  the  Quakers,  the  EngUsh  and 
American  Puritans,  the  Scottish  Presbyterians,  they  are 
all  laid  under  pulpit  contribution,  and  they  all  get  their 
generous  meed  of  praise,  or  their  regretful  word  of  passing 
blame.  Till  it  must  have  been  a  Biblical  and  a  theo- 
logical education  to  sit  under  Goodwin,  not  only  to  his 
Bible  students,  but  to  all  his  hearers.  And  till  I  can  see 
the  Bible-loving  Protector  and  all  his  preaching  officers 
rubbing  their  hands  with  holy  glee  as  they  crowded  round 
Goodwin's  pulpit,  now  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
now  in  the  camp,  and  congratulated  evangelical  England 
and  themselves  that  they  had  such  a  '  trier  '  as  Goodwin 
was,  by  whom  to  waken  up  the  sleeping  incumbents  of 
the  parish  pulpits  all  over  the  land. 

But,  after  all  I  have  said,  I  would  not  feel  that  I  had 
come  within  sight  of  doing  justice  to  the  whole  wealth, 
originality,  and  suggestiveness  of  Thomas  Goodwin's 
mind  unless  I  went  on  to  give  a  specimen  list  of  the  topics 
and  the  themes  he  starts  and  treats  himself,  and  of  the 
topics  and  the  themes  he  leaves  his  ministerial  readers 
to  take  up  and  treat  for  themselves.  I  have,  therefore, 
selected  a  short  list  of  those  topics  and  themes,  some  of 
which  I  have  already  treated  in  the  pulpit  myself.  And 
if  I  have  not  sufficient  time  and  strength  left  me  to  over- 
take them  all,  I  shall  leave  them  to  such  of  you  as  shall 
succeed  me  in  the  study  and  exposition  of  Goodwin's 
works.  Take,  then,  the  following  texts  and  topics  and 
themes  as  so  many  illustrations  of  Goodwin's  wealthy  and 
suggestive  mind. 

'  God  is  glorified  only  by  being  made  known.' 

'  The  Son  of  God  might  have  assumed  any  nature, 
yours  or  mine.' 

'  Jesus  Christ  was  the  greatest  and  the  best  believer 
that  ever  lived.' 


174  THOMAS  GOODWIN 

'  The  one  great  end  of  Christ's  preaching  was  to  reveal 
the  Father.' 

'  AHquid  in  Christo  formosius  Salvatore.' 

'  Faith  answers  to  the  whole  of  Christ,  and  Christ 
answers  to  the  whole  of  faith.' 

'  Eye  not  the  promises,  bnt  the  Promiser.' 

'  Holy  Scripture  is  not  abhorrent  of  the  metaphor  of 
purchase  in  the  work  of  Christ.' 

'  Man  never  knows  how  anthropomorphic  he  is.' 

'  Some  men  have  given  over  all  other  lives  but  the  life 
of  faith.' 

'  Regeneration  is  but  partial  in  the  very  best  saints.' 

'  Motus  primi  non  cadunt  sub  libertatem.' 

'  Our  greatest  sins  are  those  of  the  mind.' 

'  Their  indwelling  sin  is  by  far  the  greatest  misery  of 
the  regenerate.' 

'  Self  is  the  most  abominable  principle  that  ever  was.' 

'  Generalia  non  pungunt.' 

'  We  are  to  seek  to  have  affections  suitable  to  our 
knowledge.' 

'  Aqua  fortis  is  laid  on  letters  of  ink  to  eat  them  out, 
and  so  is  the  blood  of  Christ  laid  on  the  handwriting  that 
is  against  us,' 

'  Verba  in  res,  as  the  philosopher  said  when  he  was 
converted.' 

'  Divinity  hath  a  definition  of  man,  of  which  definition 
the  deepest  philosophy  falls  short.' 

'  The  circumstances  lie  heavier  on  the  conscience  than 
the  act  itself.' 

'  Hell  fire  is  not  culinary  fire.' 

'  Good  swimmers  seek  out  deep  waters.' 

'  A  thief  that  deserves  hanging  must  not  complain 
of  being  burned  in  the  hand.' 

'  Judas  heard  all  Christ's  sermons.' 


THOMAS  GOODWIN  175 

'  Demas  left  his  preaching,  and  turned  to  merchandis- 
ing.' 

'  God  had  only  one  Son,  and  He  made  Him  a  Minister.' 

And  a  thousand  more  of  the  same  suggestive  kind. 

Now,  I  do  not  think  that  any  born  preacher  can  listen 
to  a  catalogue  of  texts  and  topics  and  themes  like  that 
without  his  heart  taking  fire  for  the  pulpit.  What 
think  you  ?  But  with  all  that  I  have  said,  do  not  go  away 
supposing  or  saying  that  I  am  demanding  that  any  of 
you  shall  feed  your  mind  and  feast  your  heart  on  Thomas 
Goodwin  as  I  have  done.  All  I  have  said  to-day  but 
leads  me  up  to  say  this  with  some  experience  and  with 
some  authority,  I  hope.  Find  out  the  food  and  the 
relish  convenient  for  your  own  mind  and  heart,  and 
then  feed  continually  upon  it.  Amid  the  immense  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  riches  of  our  Biblical  and  theological 
and  experimental  and  autobiographical  literature,  find  out 
some  first-class  authors  who  shall  be  to  you  something  of 
what  Paul  was  to  Luther,  and  Luther  to  Bunyan,  and 
Calvin  to  Cunningham,  and  Athanasius  to  Newman,  and 
William  Guthrie  to  John  Owen,  and  Augustine  to  Dean 
Trench,  and  Thomas  Shepard  to  Jonathan  Edwards,  and 
Butler  and  Edwards  to  Chalmers,  and  Foster  and  Faber 
to  Dods.  And  then  study  with  all  your  might  to  put 
the  theology  of  Paul  and  Luther  and  the  Puritans  into  the 
written  English  of  Hooker  and  Newman,  or  into  the 
spoken  English  of  Robertson  and  Spurgeon.  And  thus 
studying,  and  thus  preaching,  and  thus  living,  you  will 
both  save  yourselves  and  them  that  hear  you. 


SIR   THOMAS   BROWNEi 

The  Religio  Medici  is  a  universally  recognised  English 
classic.  And  the  Urn-Burial,  the  Christian  Morals,  and 
the  Letter  to  a  Friend  are  all  quite  worthy  to  take  their 
stand  beside  the  Religio  Medici.  Sir  Thomas  Browne 
made  several  other  contributions  to  English  literature 
besides  these  masterpieces  ;  but  it  is  on  the  Religio  Medici, 
and  on  what  Sir  Thomas  himself  calls  '  other  pieces  of 
affinity  thereto,'  that  his  sure  fame  as  a  writer  of  noble 
truth  and  stately  English  most  securely  rests.  Sir 
Thomas  Browne  was  a  physician  of  high  standing  and 
large  practice  all  his  days  ;  and  he  was  an  antiquarian 
and  scientific  writer  of  the  foremost  information  and 
authority  :  but  it  is  the  extraordinary  depth  and  riches 
and  imaginative  sweep  of  his  mind,  and  his  rare  wisdom 
and  wealth  of  heart,  and  his  quite  wonderful  English 
style,  that  have  all  combined  together  to  seal  Sir  Thomas 
Browne  with  his  well-earned  immortality. 

Sir  Thomas  Browne's  outward  life  can  be  told  in  a 
very  few  words.  He  was  born  at  London  in  1605.  He 
lost  his  father  very  early,  and  it  must  have  been  a  very 
great  loss.  For  the  old  mercer  was  wont  to  creep  up  to 
his  little  son's  cradle  when  he  was  asleep,  and  uncover 
and  kiss  the  child's  breast,  and  pray,  '  as  'tis  said  of 
Origen's  father,  that  the  Holy  Ghost  would  at  once  take 

'  The  Inaugural  Discourse  delivered  at  the  Meeting  of  the  British 
Medical  Association  in  St.  Giles'  Cathedral  on  the  26th  of  July  1898. 

M 


178  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

possession  there.'  The  old  merchant  was  able  to  leave 
money  enough  to  take  his  gifted  son  first  to  Winchester 
School,  and  then  to  Oxford,  where  he  graduated  in  New 
Pembroke  in  1626.  On  young  Browne's  graduation,  old 
Anthony  a  Wood  has  this  remark,  that  those  who  love 
Pembroke  best  can  wish  it  nothing  better  than  that  it 
may  long  proceed  as  it  has  thus  begun.  As  soon  as  he 
had  taken  his  university  degree  young  Browne  entered 
on  the  study  of  medicine  :  and  in  pursuit  of  that  fast- 
rising  science  he  visited  and  studied  in  the  most  famous 
schools  of  France  and  Italy  and  Holland.  After  various 
changes  of  residence,  through  all  of  which  it  is  somewhat 
difficult  to  trace  the  young  physician's  movements,  we 
find  him  at  last  fairly  settled  in  the  city  of  Norwich, 
where  he  spent  the  remainder  of  his  long,  and  busy,  and 
prosperous,  and  honourable  life. 

Dr.  Johnson  laments  that  Sir  Thomas  Browne  has 
left  us  no  record  of  his  travels  and  studies  abroad,  and 
all  Sir  Thomas's  readers  will  join  with  his  great  biographer 
in  that  regret.  At  the  same  time,  as  we  turn  over  the 
pile  of  letters  that  Sir  Thomas  sent  to  his  student  son 
Edward,  and  to  his  sailor  son  Thomas,  when  they  were 
abroad  at  school  and  on  ship,  we  can  easily  collect  and 
picture  to  ourselves  the  life  that  the  writer  of  those  so 
wise  and  so  beautiful  letters  led  when  he  himself  was 
still  a  student  at  Montpellier  and  Padua  and  Ley  den. 
'  Honest  Tom, — God  bless  thee,  and  protect  thee,  and 
mercifully  lead  thee  through  the  ways  of  His  providence. 
Be  diligent  in  going  to  church.  Be  constant,  and  not 
negligent  in  your  daily  private  prayers.  Be  a  good 
husband.  Cast  up  your  accounts  with  all  care.  Be 
temperate  in  diet,  and  be  wary  not  to  overheat  yourself. 
Be  courteous  and  civil  to  all.  Live  with  an  apothecary, 
and    observe    his    drugs    and    practice.     Frequent    civil 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  179 

company.  Point  your  letters,  and  put  periods  at  the 
ends  of  your  sentences.  Have  the  love  and  the  fear 
of  God  ever  before  your  eyes.  And  may  God  confirm 
your  faith  in  Christ.  Observe  the  manner  of  trade  : 
how  they  make  wine  and  vinegar,  and  keep  a  note  of 
all  that  for  me.  Be  courteous  and  humble  in  all  your 
conversation,  and  of  good  manners :  which  he  that 
learneth  not  in  France  travaileth  in  vain.  When  at  sea 
read  good  books.  Without  good  books  time  cannot  be 
well  spent  in  those  great  ships.  Learn  the  stars  also  : 
the  particular  coasts  :  the  depth  of  the  road-steads  : 
and  the  risings  and  fallings  of  the  land.  Enquire  further 
about  the  mineral  water  :  and  take  notice  of  such  plants 
as  you  meet  with.  I  am  told  that  you  are  looked  on 
in  the  Service  as  exceeding  faithful,  valiant,  diligent, 
generous,  vigilant,  observing,  very  knowing,  and  a 
scholar.  When  you  first  took  to  this  manner  of  life, 
you  cannot  but  remember  that  I  caused  you  to  read  all 
the  sea-fights  of  note  in  Plutarch  ;  and,  withal,  gave 
you  the  description  of  fortitude  left  by  Aristotle.  In 
places  take  notice  of  the  government  of  them,  and  the 
eminent  persons.  The  merciful  providence  of  God  ever 
go  with  you,  and  direct  and  bless  you,  and  give  you  ever 
a  grateful  heart  toward  Him.  I  send  you  Lucretius  : 
and  with  it  Tully's  Offices  :  'tis  as  remarkable  for  its 
little  size  as  for  the  good  matter  contained  in  it,  and  the 
authentic  and  classical  Latin.  I  hoj^e  you  do  not  forget 
to  carry  a  Greek  Testament  always  to  church  :  a  man 
learns  two  things  together,  and  profiteth  doubly,  in  the 
language  and  the  subject.  God  send  us  to  number  our 
days,  and  to  fit  ourselves  for  a  better  world.  Times 
look  troublesome  :  but  you  have  an  honest  and  peace- 
able profession  like  myself,  which  may  well  employ  you, 
and  you  have  discretion  to  guide  your  words  and  actions. 


180  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

May  God  be  reconciled  to  us,  and  give  us  grace  to  for- 
sake our  sins  which  set  fire  to  all  things.  You  shall 
never  want  my  daily  prayers,  and  also  frequent  letters.' 
And  so  on,  through  a  delightful  sheaf  of  letters  to  his 
two  sons  :  and  out  of  which  a  fine  picture  rises  before 
us,  both  of  Sir  Thomas's  own  student  hfe  abroad,  as  well 
as  of  the  footing  on  which  the  now  famous  physician 
and  English  author  stood  with  his  student  and  sailor 
sons. 

You  might  read  every  word  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne's 
writings  and  never  discover  that  a  sword  had  been  un- 
sheathed or  a  shot  fired  in  England  all  the  time  he  was 
living  and  writing  there.  It  was  the  half-century  of  the 
terrible  civil  war  for  political  and  religious  liberty : 
but  Sir  Thomas  Browne  would  seem  to  have  possessed 
all  the  political  and  religious  liberty  he  needed.  At  any 
rate,  he  never  took  open  part  on  either  side  in  the  great 
contest.  Sir  Thomas  Browne  was  not  made  of  the  hot 
metal  and  the  stern  stuff  of  John  Milton.  All  through 
those  terrible  years  Browne  lived  securely  in  his  labora- 
tory, and  in  his  library,  and  in  his  closet.  Richard 
Baxter's  Autobiography  is  as  full  of  gunpowder  as  if  it 
had  been  written  in  an  army-chaplain's  tent,  as  indeed 
it  was.  But  both  Bunyan's  Grace  Abounding  and 
BroAvne's  Religio  Medici  might  have  been  written  in  the 
Bedford  or  Norwich  of  our  own  peaceful  day.  All  men 
are  not  made  to  be  soldiers  and  statesmen  :  and  it  is 
no  man's  duty  to  attempt  to  be  what  he  was  not  made 
to  be.  Every  man  has  his  own  talent,  and  his  corre- 
sponding and  consequent  duty  and  obligation.  And 
both  Bunyan  and  Browne  had  their  own  talent,  and 
their  own  consequent  duty  and  obligation,  just  as 
Cromwell  and  Milton  and  Baxter  had  theirs.     Enough, 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  181 

and  more  than  enough,  if  it  shall  be  said  to  them  all  on 
that  day,  Well  done. 

'  My  life,'  says  Sir  Thomas,  in  opening  one  of  the 
noblest  chapters  of  his  noblest  book,  '  is  a  miracle  of 
thirty  years,  which  to  relate  were  not  a  history,  but  a 
piece  of  poetry  ;  and  it  would  sound  to  common  ears  like 
a  fable.'  Now,  as  all  Sir  Thomas's  readers  must  know,  the 
most  extraordinary  criticisms  and  comments  have  been 
made  on  those  devout  and  thankful  words  of  his  con- 
cerning himself.  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson's  were  not  common 
ears,  but  even  he  comments  on  these  beautiful  words  with 
a  momentary  wooden-headedness  almost  past  belief. 
For,  surely  the  thirty  years  of  schoolboy,  and  student, 
and  opening  professional  life  that  resulted  in  the  pro- 
duction of  such  a  masterpiece  as  the  Religio  Medici  was 
a  miracle  both  of  God's  providence  and  God's  grace, 
enough  to  justify  him  who  had  experienced  all  that  in 
aeknoAvledging  it  to  God's  glory  and  to  the  unburdening 
of  his  own  heart,  so  richly  loaded  with  God's  benefits. 
And,  how  a  man  of  Samuel  Johnson's  insight,  good  sense, 
and  pious  feeling  could  have  so  missed  the  mark  in  this 
case,  I  cannot  understand.  All  the  more  that  both  the 
chapter  so  complained  about,  and  the  whole  book  to 
which  that  chapter  belongs,  are  full  of  the  same  thankful, 
devout,  and  adoring  sentiment.  But  even  Homer 
sometimes  nods.  '  The  world  that  I  regard,'  Sir  Thomas 
proceeds,  '  is  mj^self.  Men  that  look  upon  my  outside, 
and  who  peruse  only  my  conditions  and  my  fortunes, 
do  err  in  my  altitude.  There  is  surely  a  piece  of  divinity 
in  us  all ;  something  that  was  before  the  elements,  and 
which  owes  no  homage  unto  the  sun.'  And  again  :  '  We 
carry  with  us  the  wonders  we  seek  without  us.  There 
is  all  Africa  and  all  its  prodigies  in  us  all.  We  are  that 
bold  and  adventurous  piece  of  nature,  which  he  that 


182  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

studies   wisely  learns,   in   a   compendium,   what   others 

labour  at  in  a  divided  piece  and  endless  volume.'    And 

again  :  '  There  is  another  way  of  God's  providence  full 

W^         of  meanders  and  labyrinths  and  obscure  methods  :    that 

"'  serpentine  and  crooked  line  :    that  cryptic  and  involved 

method  of  His  providence  which  I  have  ever  admired. 
Surely  there  are  in  every  man's  life  certain  rubs,  and 
doublings,  and  wrenches,  which,  well  examined,  do 
prove  the  pure  hand  of  God.  And  to  be  true,  and  to 
speak  out  my  soul,  when  I  survey  the  occurrences  of  my 
own  life,  and  call  into  account  the  finger  of  God,  I  can 
perceive  nothing  but  an  abyss  and  a  mass  of  mercies. 
And  those  which  others  term  crosses,  and  afflictions,  and 
judgments,  and  misfortunes,  to  me  they  both  appear, 
and  in  event  have  ever  proved,  the  secret  and  dissembled 
favours  of  His  affection.'  And  in  the  Christian  Morals  : 
»  '  Annihilate  not  the  mercies  of  God  by  the  oblivion  of 

\r  ingratitude.     Make  not  thy  head  a  grave,  but  a  repository 

of  God's  mercies.  Register  not  only  strange,  but  all 
merciful  occurrences.  Let  thy  diaries  stand  thick  with 
dutiful  mementoes  and  asterisks  of  acknowledgment. 
And  to  be  complete  and  to  forget  nothing,  date  not  His 
mercy  from  thy  nativity  :  look  beyond  this  world,  and 
before  the  era  of  Adam.  And  mark  well  the  winding 
ways  of  providence.  For  that  hand  writes  often  by 
abbreviations,  hieroglyphics,  and  short  characters,  which, 
like  the  laconism  on  Belshazzar's  wall,  are  not  to  be 
made  out  but  by  a  key  from  that  Spirit  that  indited 
them.'  And  yet  again :  '  To  thoughtful  observ^ers  the 
whole  world  is  one  phylactery,  and  everything  we  see 
an  item  of  the  wisdom,  and  power,  and  goodness  of  God.' 
How  any  man,  not  to  speak  of  one  of  the  wisest  and 
best  of  men,  such  as  Samuel  Johnson  was,  could  read  all 
that,  and  still  stagger  at  Sir  Thomas  Browne  holding 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  183 

himself  to  be  a  living  miracle  of  the  power,  and  the 
love,  and  the  grace  of  God,  passes  my  understanding. 

We  have  seen  in  his  own  noble  words  how  Sir  Thomas 
Browne's  life  appeared  to  himself.  Let  us  now  look 
at  how  he  appeared  to  other  observing  men.  The  Rev. 
John  Whitefoot,  the  close  and  lifelong  friend  of  Sir 
Thomas,  has  left  us  this  lifelike  protrait  of  the  author  of 
Religio  Medici :  '  For  a  character  of  his  person,  his 
complexion  and  his  hair  were  answerable  to  his  name, 
his  stature  was  moderate,  and  his  habit  of  body  neither 
fat  nor  lean,  but  evaapKO'i.  In  his  habit  of  clothing 
he  had  an  aversion  to  all  finery,  and  affected  plainness. 
He  ever  wore  a  cloke,  or  boots,  when  few  others  did.  He 
kept  himself  always  very  warm,  and  thought  it  most 
safe  so  to  do.  The  horizon  of  his  understanding  was 
much  larger  than  the  hemisphere  of  the  world  :  all 
that  was  visible  in  the  heavens  he  comprehended  so  well, 
that  few  that  are  under  them  knew  so  much.  And  of  the 
earth  he  had  such  a  minute  and  exact  geographical 
knowledge  as  if  he  had  been  by  divine  providence  ordained 
surveyor-general  of  the  whole  terrestrial  orb  and  its 
products,  minerals,  plants,  and  animals.  His  memory, 
though  not  so  eminent  as  that  of  Seneca  or  Scaliger,  was 
capacious  and  tenacious,  insomuch  that  he  remem- 
bered all  that  was  remarkable  in  any  book  he  ever  read. 
He  had  no  despotical  power  over  his  affections  and 
passions,  that  was  a  privilege  of  original  perfection,  but 
as  large  a  political  power  over  them  as  any  stoic  or  man 
of  his  time,  whereof  he  gave  so  great  experiment  that  he 
hath  very  rarely  been  known  to  have  been  overpowered 
with  any  of  them.  His  aspect  and  conversation  were 
grave  and  sober  ;  there  was  never  to  be  seen  in  him 
anything  trite  or  vulgar.  Parsimonious  in  nothing  but 
his  time,  whereof  he  made  as  much  improvement,  with 


184  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

as  little  loss  of  any  man  in  it,  when  he  had  any  to  spare 
from  his  drudging  practice,  he  was  scarce  patient  of  any 
diversion  from  his  study  :  so  impatient  of  sloth  and 
idleness,  that  he  would  say,  he  could  not  do  nothing. 
He  attended  the  public  service  very  constantly,  when 
he  was  not  withheld  by  his  practice.  Never  missed  the 
sacrament  in  his  parish,  if  he  were  in  town.  Read  the 
best  English  sermons  he  could  hear  of  with  liberal 
applause :  and  delighted  not  in  controversies.  His 
patience  was  founded  upon  the  Christian  philosophy,  and 
sound  faith  of  God's  providence,  and  a  meek  and  humble 
submission  thereto.  I  visited  him  near  his  end,  when  he 
had  not  strength  to  hear  or  speak  much  :  and  the  last 
words  I  heard  from  him  were,  besides  some  expressions 
of  dearness,  that  he  did  freely  submit  to  the  will  of  God  : 
being  without  fear.  He  had  oft  triumphed  over  the 
king  of  terrors  in  others,  and  given  him  many  repulses 
in  the  defence  of  patients  ;  but  when  his  own  time  came, 
he  submitted  Avith  a  meek,  rational,  religious  courage.' 

Taking  Sir  Thomas  Browne  all  in  all,  TertulUan, 
Sir  Thomas's  favourite  Father,  has  supplied  us,  as  it  seems 
to  me,  with  his  whole  life  and  character  in  these  so 
expressive  and  so  comprehensive  words  of  his,  Anima 
naturaliter  Christiana.  In  these  three  words,  when  well 
weighed  and  fully  opened  up,  we  have  the  whole  author 
of  the  Religio  Medici,  the  Christian  Morals,  and  the 
Letter  to  a  Friend.    Anima  naturaliter  Christiana. 

The  Religio  Medici  was  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  first  book, 
and  it  remains  by  far  his  best  book.  His  other  books 
acquire  their  value  and  take  their  rank  just  according  to 
the  degree  of  their  '  affinity  '  to  the  Religio  Medici.  Sir 
Thomas  Browne  is  at  his  best  when  he  is  most  alone  with 
himself.     There  is  no  subject  that  interests  him  so  much 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  185 

as  Sir  Thomas  Browne.  And  if  you  will  forget  yourself 
in  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  and  in  his  conversations  which  he 
holds  with  himself,  you  will  find  a  rare  and  an  ever  fresh 
delight  in  the  Ileligio  Medici.  Sir  Thomas  is  one  of  the 
greatest  egotists  of  literature — to  use  a  necessary  but 
an  unpopular  and  a  misleading  epithet.  Hazlitt  has 
it  that  there  have  only  been  but  three  perfect,  absolute, 
and  unapproached  egotists  in  all  literature — Cellini, 
Montaigne,  and  Wordsworth.  But  why  that  fine  critic 
leaves  out  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  I  cannot  understand  or 
accept.  I  always  turn  to  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  far  more 
than  to  either  of  Hazlitt's  canonised  three,  when  I  want 
to  read  what  a  great  man  has  to  tell  me  about  himself  : 
and  in  this  case  both  a  great  and  a  good  and  a  Christian 
man.  And  thus,  whatever  modification  and  adaptation 
may  have  been  made  in  this  masterpiece  of  his,  in  view 
of  its  publication,  and  after  it  was  first  published,  the 
original  essence,  most  genuine  substance,  and  unique 
style  of  the  book  were  all  intended  for  its  author's  peculiar 
heart  and  private  eye  alone.  And  thus  it  is  that  we  have 
a  work  of  a  simplicity  and  a  sincerity  that  would  have 
been  impossible  had  its  author  in  any  part  of  his  book 
sat  down  to  compose  for  the  public.  Sir  Thomas  Browne 
lived  so  much  within  himself,  that  he  was  both  secret 
writer  and  sole  reader  to  himself.  His  great  book  is 
'  a  private  exercise  directed  solely,'  as  he  himself  says, 
'  to  himself  :  it  is  a  memorial  addressed  to  himself  rather 
than  an  example  or  a  rule  directed  to  any  other  man.' 
And  it  is  only  he  Avho  opens  the  Religio  Medici  honestly 
and  easily  believing  that,  and  glad  to  have  such  a  secret 
and  sincere  and  devout  book  in  his  hand, — it  is  only  he 
who  will  truly  enjoy  the  book,  and  who  will  gather  the 
same  gain  out  of  it  that  its  author  enjoyed  and  gained 
out  of  it  himself.     In  short,  the  properly  prepared  and 


186  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

absolutely  ingenuous  reader  of  the  Religio  Medici  must 
be  a  second  Thomas  Browne  himself. 

'  I  am  a  medical  man,'  says  Sir  Thomas,  in  intro- 
ducing himself  to  us,  '  and  this  is  my  religion.  I  am 
a  physician,  and  this  is  my  faith,  and  my  morals,  and  my 
whole  true  and  proper  life.  The  scandal  of  my  profession, 
the  natural  course  of  my  studies,  and  the  indifference  of 
my  behaviour  and  discourse  in  matters  of  religion,  might 
persuade  the  world  that  I  had  no  religion  at  all.  And 
yet,  in  despite  of  all  that,  I  dare,  without  usurpation, 
assume  the  honourable  style  of  a  Christian.'  And  if 
ever  any  man  was  a  truly  catholic  Christian,  it  was  surely 
Sir  Thomas  Browne.  He  does  not  unchurch  or  ostracise 
any  other  man.  He  does  not  stand  at  diameter  and 
sword's  point  with  any  other  man  ;  no,  not  even  with 
his  enemy.  He  has  never  been  able  to  alienate  or 
exasperate  himself  from  any  man  whatsoever  because  of 
a  difference  of  an  opinion.  He  has  never  been  angry 
with  any  man  because  his  judgment  in  matters  of  religion 
did  not  agree  with  his.  In  short,  he  has  no  genius  for 
disputes  about  religion  ;  and  he  has  often  felt  it  to  be 
his  best  wisdom  to  decline  all  such  disputes.  When  his 
head  was  greener  than  it  now  is,  he  had  a  tendency  to 
two  or  three  errors  in  religion,  of  which  he  proceeds  to 
set  down  the  spiritual  history.  But  at  no  time  did  he 
ever  maintain  his  own  opinions  with  pertinacity  :  far 
less  to  inveigle  or  entangle  any  other  man's  faith  ;  and 
thus  they  soon  died  out,  since  they  were  only  bare  errors 
and  single  lajDses  of  his  understanding,  without  a  joint 
depravity  of  his  will.  The  truth  to  Sir  Thomas  Browne 
about  all  revealed  religion  is  this,  which  he  sets  forth  in 
a  deservedly  famous  passage  :  '  Methinks  there  be  not 
impossibilities  enough  in  revealed  religion  for  an  active 
faith.     I  love  to  lose  myself  in  a  mystery,  and  to  pursue 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  187 

my  reason  to  an  0  altitudo  !  'Tis  my  solitary  recreation 
to  pose  my  appreliension  with  those  involved  enigmas 
and  riddles  of  the  Trinity,  with  incarnation  and  resur- 
rection. I  can  answer  all  the  objections  of  Satan  and  my 
rebellious  reason  with  that  odd  resolution  I  learned  of 
Tertulhan,  Cerium  est  quia  imyossibile  est.     I  desire  to  ^ 

exercise  my  faith  in  the  difficultcst  point ;  for  anything  -x^"  '^ 
else  is  not  faith  but  persuasion.  I  bless  myself,  and  am  ti^''' 
thankful  that  I  never  saw  Christ  nor  His  disciples.  For 
then  had  my  faith  been  thrust  upon  me  ;  nor  should  I 
have  enjoyed  that  greater  blessing  pronounced  to  all 
that  believe  and  saw  not.  They  only  had  the  advantage 
of  a  noble  and  a  bold  faith  who  lived  before  the  coming 
of  Christ ;  and  who,  upon  obscure  prophecies  and  mystical 
types,  could  raise  a  belief  and  expect  apparent  im- 
possibilities. And  since  I  was  of  understanding  enough 
to  know  that  we  know  nothing,  my  reason  hath  been 
more  pliable  to  the  will  of  faith.  I  am  now  content  to 
understand  a  mystery  in  an  easy  and  Platonic  way,  and 
without  a  demonstration  and  a  rigid  definition  ;  and  thus 
I  teach  my  haggard  and  unreclaimed  reason  to  stoop 
unto  the  lure  of  faith.'  The  unreclaimed  reader  who  is 
not  already  allured  by  these  specimens  need  go  no  further 
in  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  autobiographic  book.  But  he 
who  feels  the  grace  and  the  truth,  the  power  and  the 
sweetness  and  the  beauty  of  such  writing,  will  be  glad  to 
know  that  the  whole  Religio  is  full  of  such  things,  and 
that  all  this  author's  religious  and  moral  writings  partake 
of  the  same  truly  Apostolic  and  truly  Platonic  character. 
In  this  noble  temper,  with  the  richest  mind,  and  clothed 
in  a  style  that  entrances  and  captivates  us.  Sir  Thomas 
proceeds  to  set  forth  his  doctrine  and  experience  of  God  ; 
of  God's  providence  ;  of  Holy  Scripture  ;  of  nature  and 
man  ;    of  miracles  and  oracles  ;    of  the  Holy  Ghost  and 


188  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

holy  angels  ;  of  death  ;  and  of  heaven  and  hell.  And, 
especially,  and  with  great  fulness,  and  victoriousness,  and 
conclusiveness,  he  deals  with  death.  We  sometimes 
amuse  ourselves  by  making  a  selection  of  the  two  or  three 
books  that  we  would  take  with  us  to  prison  or  to  a  desert 
island.  And  one  dying  man  here  and  another  there  has 
already  selected  and  set  aside  the  proper  and  most  suit- 
able books  for  his  oAvn  special  deathbed.  '  Read  where  I 
first  cast  my  anchor,'  said  John  Knox  to  his  wife,  sitting 
weeping  at  his  bedside.  At  which  she  opened  and  read 
in  the  Gospel  of  John.  Sir  Thomas  Browne  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  the  very  prose-laureate  of  death.  He 
writes  as  no  other  man  has  ever  written  about  death. 
Death  is  everywhere  in  all  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  books. 
And  yet  it  may  be  said  of  them  all,  that,  like  heaven  itself, 
there  is  no  death  there.  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  Sir 
Thomas  Browne's  defiant  faith  that  cannot,  even  in  death, 
get  difficulties  and  impossibilities  enough  to  exercise 
itself  upon.  O  death,  where  is  thy  sting  to  Rutherford, 
and  Bunyan,  and  Baxter,  and  Browne  ;  and  to  those 
who  diet  their  imaginations  and  their  hearts  day  and 
night  at  such  heavenly  tables  !  But,  if  only  to  see  how 
great  and  good  men  differ,  Spinoza  has  this  proposition 
and  demonstration  that  a  '  free  man  thinks  of  nothing 
less  than  of  death.'  Browne  was  a  free  man,  but  he 
thought  of  nothing  more  than  of  death.  He  was  of 
Dante's  mind — 

The  arrow  seen  beforehand  slacks  its  flight. 

The  Religio  Medici  was  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  first 
book,  and  the  Christian  Morals  was  his  last ;  but  the  two 
books  are  of  such  affinity  to  one  another  that  they  will 
always  be  thought  of  together.  Only,  the  style  that  was 
already  almost  too  rich  for  our  modern  taste  in  the  Religio 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  189 

absolutely  cloys  and  clogs  us  in  the  Morals.  The  opening 
and  the  closing  sentences  of  this  posthumous  treatise 
will  better  convey  a  taste  of  its  strength  and  sweetness 
than  any  estimate  or  eulogium  of  mine.  '  Tread  softly 
and  circumspectly  in  this  funambulatory  track,  and 
narrow  path  of  goodness ;  pursue  virtue  virtuously  : 
leaven  not  good  actions,  nor  render  virtue  disputable. 
Stain  not  fair  acts  with  foul  intentions  ;  maim  not  up- 
rightness by  halting  concomitances,  nor  circumstantially 
deprave  substantial  goodness.  Consider  whereabout  thou 
art  in  Cebes'  table,  or  that  old  philosophical  pinax  of 
the  life  of  man  :  whether  thou  art  yet  in  the  road  of 
uncertainties  ;  whether  thou  hast  yet  entered  the  narrow 
gate,  got  up  the  hill  and  asperous  way  which  leadeth 
unto  the  house  of  sanity  ;  or  taken  that  purifying  potion 
from  the  hand  of  sincere  erudition,  which  may  send 
thee  clear  and  pure  away  unto  a  virtuous  and  happy 
life.'  And  having  taken  his  reader  up  through  a  virtuous 
life,  Sir  Thomas  thus  parts  with  him  at  its  close  :  '  Lastly, 
if  length  of  days  be  thy  portion,  make  it  not  thy  expecta- 
tion. Reckon  not  upon  long  life  ;  think  every  day  thy 
last.  And  since  there  is  something  in  us  that  will  still 
live  on,  join  both  lives  together,  and  live  in  one  but  for 
the  other.  And  if  any  hath  been  so  happy  as  personally 
to  understand  Christian  annihilation,  ecstasy,  exaltation, 
transformation,  the  kiss  of  the  spouse,  and  ingrcssion 
into  the  divine  shadow,  according  to  mystical  theology, 
they  have  already  had  an  handsome  anticipation  of 
heaven  :  the  world  is  in  a  manner  over,  and  the  earth  in 
ashes  unto  them.'  '  Prose,'  says  Friswell,  '  that  with 
very  little  transposition,  might  make  verse  quite  worthy 
of  Shakespeare  himself.' 

The  Letter  to  a  Friend  is  an  account  of  the  swift  and 


190  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

inevitable  deathbed  of  one  of  Sir  Thomas's  patients  : 
a  young  man  who  died  of  a  deceitful  but  a  galloping 
consumption.  There  is  enough  of  old  medical  observa- 
tion and  opening  science  in  the  Letter,  as  well  as  of  sweet 
old  literature,  and  still  sweeter  old  religion,  to  make  it  a 
classic  to  every  well-read  doctor  in  the  language.  '  To 
be  dissolved  and  to  be  with  Christ  was  his  dying  ditty. 
He  esteemed  it  enough  to  approach  the  years  of  his 
Saviour,  who  so  ordered  His  own  human  state,  as  not  to 
be  old  upon  earth.  He  that  early  arriveth  into  the 
parts  and  prudence  of  age  is  happily  old  without  the 
uncomfortable  attendants  of  it.  And  'tis  superfluous 
to  live  unto  grey  hairs,  when  in  a  precocious  temper  we 
anticipate  the  virtues  of  them.  In  brief,  he  cannot  be 
accounted  young  who  outliveth  the  old  man.'  Let  all 
young  medical  students  have  by  heart  Sir  Thomas 
Browne's  incomparable  English,  and  wisdom,  and  piety 
in  his  Letter  to  a  Friend  upon  the  occasion  of  the  death  of 
his  intimate  Friend.  '  This  unique  morsel  of  literature,' 
as  Walter  Pater  calls  it. 

The  Vulgar  Errors,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  neither 
very  inviting,  nor  very  rewarding  to  ordinary  readers 
nowadays.  And  that  big  book  will  only  be  persevered 
in  to  the  end  by  those  readers  to  whom  everything  that 
Sir  Thomas  Browne  has  written  is  of  a  rare  interest  and 
profit.  The  full  title  of  this  now  completely  antiquated 
and  wholly  forgotten  treatise  is  this,  '  Pseudodoxia 
Epidemica,  or  Enquiries  into  very  many  received  Tenets 
and  commonly  presumed  Truths,  which  examined  prove 
but  Vulgar  and  Common  Errors.'  The  First  Book  of 
the  Pseudodoxia  is  general  and  philosophical ;  the 
Second  Book  treats  of  popular  and  received  tenets  con- 
cerning mineral  and  vegetable  bodies ;  the  Third,  of 
popular  and   received   tenets  concerning  animals ;     the 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  191 

Fourth,  of  man  ;  the  Fifth,  of  many  things  questionable 
as  they  are  commonly  described  in  pictures,  etc.  ;  and 
the  Sixth,  of  popular  and  received  tenets,  cosmographical, 
geographical,  and  historical ;  and  the  Seventh,  of  popular 
and  received  truths,  some  historical,  and  some  deduced 
from  Holy  Scripture.  The  Introductory  Book  contains 
the  best  analysis  and  exposition  of  the  famous  Baconian 
Idols  that  has  ever  been  written.  That  Book  of  the 
Pseudodoxia  is  full  of  the  profoundest  philosophical 
principles  set  forth  in  the  stateliest  English.  The 
students  of  Whately  and  Mill,  as  well  as  of  Bacon,  will 
greatly  enjoy  this  part  of  the  Pseudodoxia.  The 
Grammar  of  Assent,  also,  would  seem  to  have  had  some 
of  its  deepest  roots  in  the  same  powerful,  original,  and 
suggestive  Book.  For  its  day  the  Pseudodoxia  is  a 
perfect  encyclopaedia  of  scientific,  and  historical,  and 
literary,  and  even  Biblical  criticism  :  the  Pseudodoxia 
and  the  Miscellany  Tracts  taken  together.  Some  of  the 
most  powerful  passages  that  ever  fell  from  Sir  Thomas 
Browne's  pen  are  to  be  come  upon  in  the  Introduction  to 
the  Pseudodoxia.  And,  with  all  our  immense  advances 
in  method  and  in  discipline,  in  observation  and  in 
discovery,  no  true  student  of  nature  and  of  man  can 
afford  to  neglect  the  extraordinary  catalogue  of  things 
which  are  so  characteristically  treated  of  in  Sir  Thomas 
Browne's  great,  if,  nowadays,  out-grown  book.  For  one 
thing,  and  that  surely  not  a  small  thing,  we  see  on  every 
page  of  the  Pseudodoxia  the  labour,  as  Dr.  Johnson  so 
truly  says,  that  its  author  was  always  willing  to  pay  for 
the  truth.  And,  as  Sir  Thomas  says  himself,  a  work  of 
this  nature  is  not  to  be  performed  upon  one  leg,  or  with- 
out the  smell  of  oil,  if  it  is  to  be  duly  and  deservedly 
handled.  It  must  be  left  to  men  of  learning  and  of 
science  to  say  how  far  Sir  Thomas  has  duly  and  deservedly 


192  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

handled  the  immense  task  he  undertook  in  this  book. 
But  I,  for  one,  have  read  this  great  treatise  with  a  true 
pride,  in  seeing  so  much  hard  work  so  hberally  laid  out 
according  to  the  best  light  allowed  its  author  in  that  day. 
As  Dr.  Johnson  has  said  of  it,  '  The  mistakes  that  the 
author  committed  in  the  Pseudodoxia  were  not  com- 
mitted by  idleness  or  negligence,  but  only  for  want  of 
the  philosophy  of  Boyle  and  Newton.'  Who,  then,  will 
gird  up  his  loins  in  our  enlightened  day  to  give  us  a  new 
Pseudodoxia  after  the  philosophy  of  Bacon  and  Boyle 
and  Newton  and  Ewald  and  Darwin  ?  And  after  Sir 
Thomas's  own  philosophy,  which  he  thus  sets  forth  before 
himself  in  this  and  in  all  his  other  studies  :  '  We  are 
not  magisterial  in  opinions,  nor  have  we  dictator-like 
obtruded  our  conceptions :  but,  in  the  humility  of 
inquiries  or  disquisitions,  have  only  proposed  them  to 
more  ocular  discerners.  And  we  shall  so  far  encourage 
contradiction  as  to  promise  no  disturbance,  or  re-oppose 
any  pen,  that  shall  fallaciously  or  captiously  refute  us. 
And  shall  only  take  notice  of  such  whose  experimental 
and  judicious  knowledge  shall  be  employed,  not  to  tra- 
duce or  extenuate,  but  to  explain  and  dilucidate,  to  add 
and  ampliate,  according  to  the  laudable  custom  of  the 
ancients  in  their  sober  promotions  of  learning.  Unto 
whom,  notwithstanding,  we  shall  not  contentiously 
rejoin,  or  only  to  justify  our  own,  but  to  applaud  or 
confirm  his  maturer  assertions  ;  and  shall  confer  what 
is  in  us  unto  his  name  and  honour ;  ready,  for  our  part, 
to  be  swallowed  up  in  any  worthy  enlarger  :  as  having 
our  aid,  if  any  way,  or  under  any  name,  we  may  obtain 
a  work,  so  much  desired,  and  yet  desiderated,  of  truth.' 
Shall  this  Association,  I  wonder,  raise  up  from  among 
its  members,  such  a  worthy  successor  and  enlarger  of 
Sir  Thomas  Browne  ? 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  193 

The  title,  at  least,  of  the  Urn-Burial  is  more  famihar 
to  the  most  of  us  than  that  of  the  Pseudodoxia.  It  was 
the  chance  discovery  of  some  ancient  urns  in  Norfolk 
that  furnished  Sir  Thomas  with  the  occasion  to  write 
his  Hydriotaphia.  And  that  classical  book  is  only 
another  illustration  of  his  enormous  reading,  ready 
memory,  and  intense  interest  in  everything  that  touches 
on  the  nature  of  man,  and  on  his  beliefs,  habits,  and 
hopes  in  all  ages  of  his  existence  on  tliis  earth.  And  the 
eloquence  and  splendour  of  this  wonderful  piece  is  as 
arresting  to  the  student  of  style  as  its  immense  information 
is  to  the  scholar  and  the  antiquarian.  '  The  conclusion 
of  the  essay  on  Urn-Burial,'  says  Carlyle,  '  is  absolutely 
beautiful :  a  still  elegiac  mood,  so  soft,  so  deep,  so 
solemn  and  tender,  like  the  song  of  some  departed  saint 
— an  echo  of  deepest  meaning  from  the  great  and  mighty 
Nations  of  the  Dead.  Sir  Thomas  Browne  must  have 
been  a  good  man.' 

The  Garden  of  Cyrus  is  past  all  description  of  mine. 
The  Garden  of  Cyrus  must  be  read.  It  is  an  extravagant 
sport  of  a  scholar  of  the  first  rank  and  a  genius  of  the 
first  water.  '  We  write  no  herbal,'  he  begins,  and  neither 
he  does.  And  after  the  most  fantastical  prose-poem 
surely  that  ever  was  written,  he  as  fantastically  winds 
up  at  midnight  with  this  :  '  To  keep  our  eyes  longer 
open  were  but  to  act  our  antipodes.  The  huntsmen  are 
up  in  America,  and  they  are  already  past  their  first 
sleep  in  Persia.'  At  which  Coleridge  must  incontinently 
whip  out  his  pencil  till  we  have  this  note  of  his  on  the 
margin  :  '  What  life  !  what  fancy  !  what  whimsicality  ! 
Was  ever  such  a  reason  given  for  leaving  one's  book 
and  going  to  bed  as  this,  that  they  are  already  past 
their  first  sleep  in  Persia,  and  that  the  huntsmen  are  up 
in  America  ?  ' 


194  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

Sir  Thomas  Browne  has  had  many  admirers,  and  his 
greatest  admirers  are  to  be  found  among  our  foremost 
men.  He  has  had  Samuel  Johnson  among  his  greatest 
admirers,  and  Coleridge,  and  Carlyle,  and  Hazlitt,  and 
Lytton,  and  Walter  Pater,  and  Leslie  Stephen,  and 
Professor  Saintsbury ;  than  whom  no  one  of  them  all 
has  written  better  on  Browne.  And  he  has  had  princely 
editors  and  annotators  in  Simon  Wilkin,  and  Dr.  Green- 
hill,  and  Dr.  Lloyd  Roberts.  I  must  leave  it  to  those 
eminent  men  to  speak  to  you  with  all  their  authority 
about  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  ten  talents  :  his  unique 
natural  endowments,  his  universal  scholarship,  his 
philosophical  depth,  '  his  melancholy  yet  affable  irony,' 
his  professional  and  scientific  attainments,  and  his 
absolutely  classical  Enghsh  style.  And  I  shall  give 
myself  up,  in  ending  this  discourse,  to  what  is  of  much 
more  importance  to  him  and  to  us  all  than  all  these 
things  taken  together, — for  Sir  Thomas  Browne  was  a 
believing  man,  and  a  man  of  unfainting  and  unrelaxing 
prayer. 

'  I  had  rather  believe  all  the  fables  in  the  Legend,  and 
the  Talmud,  and  the  Alcoran,  than  that  this  universal 
frame  is  without  a  mind  :  and  therefore,  God  never 
wrought  miracles  to  convince  atheism,  because  His 
ordinary  works  convince  it.  It  is  true,  that  a  little 
philosophy  inclineth  man's  mind  to  atheism,  but  depth 
in  philosophy  bringeth  men's  minds  about  to  religion.' 
The  old  proverb,  Ubi  ires  medici,  duo  ailiei,  cast  an 
opprobrium  on  the  medical  profession  that  can  never 
have  been  just.  At  the  same  time,  that  proverb  may  be 
taken  as  proving  how  little  true  philosophy  there  must 
have  been  at  one  time  among  the  medical  men  of  Europe. 
Whereas,  in  Sir  Thomas  Browne  at  any  rate,  his  philo- 
sophy was  of  such  a  depth  that  to  him,  as  he  repeatedly 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  195 

tells  us,  atheism,  or  anything  like  atheism,  had  always 
been  absolutely  impossible.     '  Mine  is  that  mystical  philo- 
sophy, from  whenee  no  true  scholar  becomes  an  atheist, 
but  from  the  visible  effects  of  nature,  grows  up  a  real 
divine,  and  beholds,  not  in  a  dream,  as  Ezekiel,  but  in 
an  ocular  and  visible  object,  the  types  of  his  resurrection.' 
Nor  can  he  dedicate  his  Urn-Burial  to  his  worthy  and 
honoured  friend  without  counselling  him  to  '  run  up  his 
thoughts   upon   the   Ancient   of   Days,   the   antiquary's 
truest  object ' ;    so  continually  does  Browne's  imagina- 
tion in  all  his  books  pierce  into  and  terminate  upon 
Divine   Persons   and   upon   unseen   and   eternal   things. 
In  his  rare  imagination.  Sir  Thomas  Browne  had  the 
original  root  of  a  truly  refining,  ennobling,  and  sanctifying 
faith  planted  in  his  heart  by  the  hand  of  Nature  herself. 
Up  through  all  '  the  weeds  and  tares  of  his  brain,'  as  Sir 
Thomas    himself   calls   them,    his   imagination    and    his 
faith  shot,  and  sprang,   and  spread,   till  they  covered 
with  their  finest  fruits  his  whole  mind,  and  heart,  and  life. 
Sir  Thomas  Browne  was  a  noble  illustration  of  Bacon's 
noble  law.     For  Sir  Thomas  carried  all  his  studies,  experi- 
ments, and  operations  to  such  a  depth  in  his  own  mind, 
and  heart,  and  imagination,  that  he  was  able  to  testify  to 
all  his  fellow-physicians  that  he  who  studies  man  and 
medicine  deeply  enough  will  meet  with  as  many  intel- 
lectual,  and   scientific,   and   religious   adventures   every 
day  as  any  traveller  will  meet  with  in  Africa  itself.     As 
a  living  man  of  genius  in  the  medical  profession.  Dr. 
George  Gould,  has  it  in  that  wonderful  Behmenite  and 
Darwinian  book  of  his.  The  Cleaning  and  the  Method  of 
Life,  '  A  healing  and  a  knitting  wound,'  he  argues,  '  is 
quite  as  good  a  proof  of  God  as  a  sensible  mind  would 
desire.'     This  was  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  wise,  and  deep, 
and  devout  mind  in  all  parts  of   his  professional  and 


196  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

personal  life.  And  he  was  man  enough,  and  a  man  of 
true  science  and  of  true  religion  enough,  to  warn  his 
brethren  against  those  '  academical  reservations '  to 
which  their  strong  intellectual  and  professional  pride, 
and  their  too  weak  faith  and  courage,  continually  tempted 
them.  Nor  has  he,  for  his  part,  any  clinical  reservations 
in  religion  either,  as  so  many  of  his  brethren  have.  '  I 
cannot  go  to  cure  the  body  of  my  patient,'  he  protests, 
'  but  I  forget  my  profession  and  call  unto  God  for  his 
soul.'  To  call  Sir  Thomas  Browne  sceptical,  as  has  been 
a  caprice  and  a  fashion  among  his  merely  literary 
admirers  :  and  to  say  it,  till  it  is  taken  for  granted, 
that  he  is  an  English  Montaigne  :  all  that  is  an  abuse  of 
language.  It  is,  to  all  but  a  small  and  select  circle  of 
writers  and  readers,  utterly  misleading  and  essentially 
untrue.  And,  besides,  it  is  right  in  the  teeth  of  Sir 
Thomas's  own  emphatic,  and  repeated,  and  indignant 
denial  and  repudiation  of  Montaigiie.  Montaigne,  with 
all  liis  fascinations  for  literary  men,  and  they  are  great  ; 
and  with  all  his  services  to  them,  and  they  are  not  small ; 
is  both  an  immoral  and  an  unbelieving  writer.  Whereas, 
Sir  Thomas  Browne  never  wrote  a  single  line,  even  in 
his  greenest  studies,  that  on  his  deathbed  he  desired  to 
blot  out.  A  purer,  a  humbler,  a  more  devout  and 
detached  hand  never  put  English  pen  to  paper  than  was 
the  hand  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne.  And,  if  ever  in  his 
salad  days  he  had  a  doubt  about  any  truth  of  natural 
or  of  revealed  religion,  he  tells  us  that  he  had  fought 
down  every  such  doubt  in  his  closet  and  on  his  knees. 

I  will  not  profanely  paraphrase,  or  in  any  way  water 
down  the  strong  words  in  which  Sir  Thomas  Browne 
writes  to  himself  in  his  secret  papers  about  prayer.  All 
that  has  been  said  about  this  very  remarkable  man  only 
makes  what  we  are  now  to  read  all  the  more  remarkable 


SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  197 

and  memorable.  All  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  readers  owe 
an  immense  debt  to  Simon  Wilkin  ;  and  for  nothing 
more  than  for  rescuing  for  us  these  golden  words  of  this 
man  of  God.  '  They  were  not,'  says  Wilkin,  '  intended 
by  Browne  for  the  perusal  of  his  son,  as  so  many  of  his 
private  papers  were,  or  of  any  one  else.'  And  hence 
their  priceless  value. 

'  To  be  sure  that  no  day  pass  without  calling  upon 
God  in  a  solemn,  fervent  prayer,  seven  times  within  the 
compass  thereof.  That  is,  in  the  morning,  and  at  night, 
and  five  times  between.  Taken  up  long  ago  from  the 
example  of  David  and  Daniel,  and  a  compunction  and 
shame  that  I  had  omitted  it  so  long,  when  I  heedfully 
read  of  the  custom  of  the  Mahometans  to  pray  five  times 
in  the  day. 

'  To  pray  and  magnify  God  in  the  night,  and  in  my 
dark  bed,  when  I  cannot  sleep  ;  to  have  short  ejaculations 
whenever  I  awake,  and  when  the  four  o'clock  bell 
awakens  me  ;  or  on  my  first  discovery  of  the  light,  to  say 
this  collect  of  our  liturgy,  Eternal  God,  who  hast  safely 
brought  me  to  the  beginning  of  this  day.  .  .  . 

'  To  pray  in  all  places  where  privacy  inviteth  :  in  any 
house,  highway,  or  street :  and  to  know  no  street  or 
passage  in  this  city  which  may  not  witness  that  I  have 
not  forgot  God  and  my  Saviour  in  it ;  and  that  no  parish 
or  town  where  I  have  been  may  not  say  the  like. 

'  To  take  occasion  of  praying  upon  the  sight  of  any 
church  which  I  see  or  pass  by  as  I  ride  about. 

'  Since  the  necessities  of  the  sick,  and  unavoidable 
diversions  of  my  profession,  keep  me  often  from  church  ; 
yet  to  take  all  possible  care  that  I  might  never  miss 
sacraments  upon  their  accustomed  days. 

'  To  pray  daily  and  particularly  for  sick  patients, 
and  in  general  for  others,  wheresoever,  howsoever,  under 


198  SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE 

whose  care  soever  ;  and  at  the  entrance  into  the  house 
of  the  sick,  to  say,  The  peace  and  mercy  of  God  be  in 
this  place. 

'  After  a  sermon,  to  make  a  thanksgiving,  and  desire 
a  blessing,  and  to  pray  for  the  minister. 

'  In  tempestuous  weather,  Hghtning,  and  thunder, 
either  night  or  day,  to  pray  for  God's  merciful  protection 
upon  all  men,  and  His  mercy  upon  their  souls,  bodies, 
and  goods. 

'  Upon  sight  of  beautiful  persons,  to  bless  God  for  His 
creatures  :  to  pray  for  the  beauty  of  their  souls,  and  that 
He  would  enrich  them  with  inward  grace  to  be  answer- 
able to  the  outward.  Upon  sight  of  deformed  persons, 
to  pray  Him  to  send  them  inward  graces,  and  to  enrich 
their  souls,  and  give  them  the  beauty  of  the  resurrection.' 


WILLIAM    LAW 

William  Law  was  born  at  King's  Cliffe,  Northampton 
shire,  in  1686,  and  he  died  at  the  same  place  in  1761. 
Daniel  Defoe  was  born  in  1661,  Jonathan  Swift  in  1667, 
Joseph  Addison  in  1672,  Alexander  Pope  in  1688,  Joseph 
Butler  in  1692,  John  Wesley  in  1703,  Samuel  Johnson 
in  1709,  and  Oliver  Goldsmith  in  1728.  The  best  books 
of  Law's  famous  contemporaries  are  all  more  or  less 
known  to  every  one  who  loves  books, — Crusoe  and  Gulliver, 
Homer  and  the  Essay  on  Man,  the  Spectator,  the  Tatler, 
the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  the  Analogy  and  the  Sermons,  as 
well  as  Southey  and  Boswell, — but  many  not  ill-read  men 
have  never  read  a  single  line  of  William  Law.  And  yet 
it  may  with  perfect  safety  be  said  that  there  are  very  few 
authors  in  English  literature,  if  there  is  one,  whose  works 
will  better  delight  and  reward  readers  of  an  original  and 
serious  cast  of  mind  than  just  the  wholly  forgotten  works 
of  William  Law.  In  sheer  intellectual  strength  Law  is 
fully  abreast  of  the  very  foremost  of  his  illustrious  con- 
temporaries, while  in  that  fertilising  touch  which  is  the 
true  test  of  genius.  Law  simply  stands  alone.  And  then 
his  truly  great  and  sanctified  intellect  worked  exclusively, 
intensely,  and  with  unparalleled  originality  on  the  most 
interesting,  the  most  important,  and  the  most  productive 
of  all  subjects,  the  Divine  Nature  and  human  nature,  sin, 
prayer,  love,  and  eternal  life.     Certainly  fame  is  like  a 

199 


200  WILLIAM  LAW 

river  that  beareth  up  things  hght  and  swollen,  and  drowns 
things  weighty  and  solid. 

William  Law  was  the  fourth  of  a  large  family  of  eight 
sons  and  three  daughters.  His  father  was  a  shopkeeper 
in  King's  Cliffe,  and  the  shop  had  prospered  in  his  honest 
and  attentive  hands.  The  old  shopkeeper's  impressive 
portrait  has  been  preserved  to  us  in  the  delightful  gallery 
of  his  son's  Serious  Call.  He  was  surely  a  happy  son 
who  could  draw  such  a  portrait  of  his  father  as  we  have 
in  the  Paternus  of  that  noble  book,  and  could  also  place 
beside  it  such  a  companion  picture  as  that  of  Eusebia  in 
her  widowhood.  Young  Law  was  intended  for  the  min- 
istry of  the  Church  of  England,  and  with  that  view  he 
entered  Emmanuel  College,  Cambridge,  in  1705.  He  was 
elected  to  a  Fellowship  and  entered  Holy  Orders  in  1711. 
He  held  his  Fellowship)  till  1716,  when  by  his  refusal  to 
take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  King  George  i.,  Law  for- 
feited his  Fellowship  and  with  it  all  hope  of  preferment 
in  the  Established  Church.  I  suppose  every  student 
lays  down  rules  for  his  life  when  he  first  leaves  his  father's 
house  and  enters  the  university,  and  much  more  when  he 
enters  the  divinity  hall ;  and  the  only  thing  remarkable 
about  the  rules  that  Law  laid  down  for  his  conduct  as  a 
student  is  the  light  they  cast  on  the  early  life  of  the 
future  author  of  the  Christian  Perfection  and  the  Serious 
Call.  Out  of  Law's  eighteen  rules  I  select  the  following 
as  specimens,  '  That  the  greatness  of  human  nature  con- 
sists in  nothing  else  but  in  imitating  the  Divine  Nature. 
To  avoid  all  idleness.  To  avoid  all  excess  in  eating  and 
drinking.  To  call  to  mind  the  presence  of  God  whenever 
I  find  myself  under  any  temptation  to  sin,  and  to  have 
immediate  recourse  to  prayer.  To  think  humbly  of 
myself  and  to  think  with  great  charity  of  all  others. 
To  forbear  all  evil-sj)eaking.     To  pray  privately  three 


WILLIAM  LAW  201 

times  a  day  besides  my  morning  and  evening  devotions. 
To  spend  some  time  in  giving  an  account  of  the  day, 
previous  to  evening  prayer.'  To  the  students  of  Wilham 
Law's  works  all  these  rules  and  resolutions  read  like  so 
many  headings  of  well-known  chapters  and  recall  many 
never-to-be-forgotten  passages.  The  letter  which  the 
young  nonjuror  wrote  to  his  eldest  brother  when  he  lost 
his  Fellowship,  and  Avith  it  all  the  high  hopes  his  family 
had  hitherto  held  of  his  advancement  in  the  Church,  lets 
us  see  what  kind  of  man  the  observance  of  his  rules  of 
conduct  had  produced  in  William  Law.  '  Dear  Brother,' 
he  wrote,  '  I  have  sent  my  mother  such  news  as  I  am 
afraid  she  will  be  too  much  concerned  at,  which  is  the 
only  trouble  I  have  for  what  I  have  done.  My  prospect 
is  melancholy  enough,  but  had  I  done  what  was  required 
of  me  to  avoid  it,  I  should  have  thought  my  condition 
much  worse.  The  benefits  of  my  education  seem  partly 
at  an  end,  but  that  education  had  been  miserably  lost 
if  I  had  not  learned  to  fear  something  more  than  mis- 
fortune. ...  I  expected  to  have  had  a  greater  share  of 
worldly  advantages  than  I  am  now  likely  to  enjoy,  but 
I  am  fully  persuaded  that  if  I  am  not  happier  for  this  trial 
it  will  be  my  own  fault.  ...  I  am  heartily  glad  that 
your  education  does  not  expose  you  to  the  same  hard- 
ships that  mine  does  me,  so  that  you  may  provide  for 
your  family  without  the  expense  of  conscience.  ...  I 
shall  conclude  as  I  began  with  desiring  you  to  say  as  many 
comfortable  things  as  you  can  to  my  mother,  which  will 
much  oblige  your  affectionate  brother.' 

While  yet  a  young  man,  Law  sprang  to  the  front  rank 
of  the  polemical  writers  of  his  day.  The  Bangorian 
controversy  created  a  tremendous  agitation  in  the  Church 
of  England  in   Law's  early  days.     We  have  ourselves 


202  WILLIAM  LAW 

passed  through  enough  theological  panics  to  have  some 
idea  of  the  Bangorian  controversy.  Dr.  Hoadly,  Bishop 
of  Bangor,  occupied,  roughly  speaking,  some  such  position 
theologically  and  ecclesiastically  in  his  day  as  that 
which  Bishop  Hampden,  Archbishop  Whately,  Dean 
Stanley,  and  Dr.  Hatch  occupied  in  the  Church  of  England 
in  their  day.  The  memorable  sermon  that  Bishop 
Hoadly  preached  before  George  i.  in  1717,  and  which 
caused  such  a  scandal,  was  just  such  a  sermon  as  Dean 
Stanley,  say,  might  have  preached  in  his  day,  and, 
indeed,  did  often  preach.  And  it  will  give  modern 
students  not  a  bad  idea  of  Law's  reply  to  Hoadly  if  they 
will  imagine  Canon  Mozley  replying  in  a  joamphlet  to 
Dean  Stanley's  Church  Institutions.  Mozley  at  his  best 
is  not  unlike  Law  if  only  he  had  a  dash  of  Newman  to 
give  lucidity,  keenness,  flexibility,  and  here  and  there  a 
subtle  touch  of  wit  and  satire  to  his  style.  The  High 
Church  party  of  that  day  were  soon  in  ecstasies  over 
the  advent  of  such  a  powerful  writer  on  their  side.  And 
I  do  not  wonder  at  their  exhilaration.  For,  little  sym- 
pathy as  I  have  with  many  of  Law's  early  ecclesiastical 
contentions, — as  little  as  he  latterly  had  himself, — ^yet 
I  cannot  but  confess  to  the  strength  of  understanding, 
the  ripeness  of  learning,  the  clearness  of  eye,  and,  withal, 
the  noble  seriousness  of  mind  that  Law  discovers  to  his 
readers  on  his  first  appearance  in  the  arena  of  theological 
controversy.  Throughout  his  three  letters  to  Hoadly 
Law  is  almost  wholly  taken  up  with  the  divine  right  of 
kings  and  priests,  the  apostolical  succession  of  English 
bishops,  baptismal  regeneration,  confirmation,  absolu- 
tion, and  suchlike  questions.  There  are  not  lacking, 
indeed,  many  promises  and  foretastes  of  that  truly 
catholic  breadth  and  depth  of  mind,  and  that  truly 
apostolic  power  of  handling  divine  things,  which  after- 


WILLIAM  LAW  203 

wards  made  William  Law  so  deservedly  famous.  But 
had  he  not  in  after  days  far  outgrown  the  Bangorian 
stage  of  his  mental  and  spiritual  development  Law 
would  have  been  hailed  as  the  ablest  and  freshest  pol- 
emical writer  of  his  own  day,  but  would  never  have  been 
opened  after  his  own  day  had  passed  away.  No  one  can 
read  Law's  Three  Letters  to  the  Bishop  of  Bangor  without 
admiring  and  enjoying  the  young  nonjuror's  ecclesiastical 
gladiatorship,  but  it  is  when  he  rises  into  such  passages 
as  those  on  prayer,  on  the  use  of  the  passions  in  religion, 
and  suchhke,  that  we  hail  the  approach  of  the  coming 
author  of  the  Christian  Perfection,  the  Serious  Call,  and 
The  Spirit  of  Love.  In  their  purely  theological  passages 
Law's  Three  Letters  continually  remind  me  of  Hooker  at 
his  best.  It  is  the  fashion  to  laugh  at  Christopher  Walton 
as  a  perfect  madcap  on  the  subject  of  Wilham  Law  and 
all  that  he  ever  said  and  did,  but  I  have  found  nothing 
that  to  my  mind  better  sums  up  the  true  merit  of  Law 
in  the  part  he  took  in  the  Bangorian  controversy  than 
just  what  W^alton  says  on  this  subject  in  his  mammoth 
footnote.  '  If  the  reader,'  says  Walton,  '  be  a  person  of 
experience,  strict  impartiality,  and  solid  judgment  in 
religious  things,  he  will  easily  arrive  at  a  clear  perception 
of  the  true  and  the  false  of  all  the  questions  discussed 
in  this  most  important  controversy.  For  our  author, 
despite  his  captivating  logic,  rhetoric,  and  erudition, 
and  notwithstanding  the  praise  bestowed  upon  those 
letters  by  the  High  Church  party  and  their  reviewers, 
must  not  be  sanctioned  beyond  the  bounds  of  justice 
and  experience.'  With  that  wise  caution  taken  along 
with  a  sentence  out  of  Bishop  Ewing's  well-written 
eulogy  I  shall  take  leave  of  Law's  first  publication.  '  The 
Letters  to  Hoadly,'  says  the  Bishop  of  Argyll  and  the 
Isles,   '  may  fairly  be  put  on  a  level  with  the  Lettres 


204  WILLIAM  LAW 

Provinciales    of    Blaise    Pascal,    both    displaying   equal 
power,  wit,  and  learning.' 

We  do  not  even  know  where  Law  was  living  during 
the  years  that  immediately  followed  his  exclusion  from 
college  life,  but  that  he  was  not  idle  we  soon  have  abun- 
dant proof.  In  the  year  1705  Dr.  Bernard  Mandcville 
published  a  short  political  squib  of  some  two  hundred 
doggerel  lines  entitled  The  Grumbling  Hive,  which  he 
followed  up  with  a  succession  of  defences  and  expan- 
sions of  his  doctrines,  publishing  the  whole  under  the 
general  title  of  The  Fable  of  the  Bees  in  1723.  Under  the 
figure  of  a  bee-hive,  in  which  '  These  insects  lived  like  men 
and  all  Our  actions  they  performed  in  small,'  Mandcville 
took  up  the  cynical  position  that  our  most  brutish  and  most 
diabolical  vices  are  not  only  natural  to  us  but  are  actually 
necessary  to  fit  us  for  our  life  in  this  world  ;  and,  indeed, 
that  the  most  prosperous  communities  of  men  owe  all 
their  prosperity  at  bottom  to  the  vicious  dispositions  of 
their  individual  members.  In  Mandeville's  own  words, 
his  book  was  written  to  show  that  it  is  the  very  vileness 
of  the  ingredients  that  secures  the  wholesomeness  of 
every  well-ordered  society,  and  to  extol  the  wisdom  of 
statesmen  and  philosophers  who  have  raised  such  a 
beautiful  machine  as  a  great  nation  is  out  of  such  con- 
temptible and  abominable  materials.  Nor  is  Mandcville, 
in  all  this,  setting  forth  a  violent  paradox  wherewith  to 
bait  the  moralists  and  divines  of  his  day,  as  you  would 
naturally  think.  Not  at  all.  With  all  his  ability  and 
learning  and  argumentative  powers,  and  they  are  not 
small,  and  with  something  that  looks  sometimes  like  real 
conviction,  the  author  of  The  Fable  of  the  Bees  defends 
and  extends  his  scornful  position  through  two  large 
volumes.  Mandeville's  contemptuous  and  insulting 
book  called  forth  many  able  and  indignant  replies,  but 


WILLIAM  LAW  205 

William  Law's  reply  is  on  all  hands  admitted  to  be  by 
far  the  best.  In  a  letter  to  his  brother-in-law,  Frederick 
Denison  Mauriee,  we  find  John  Sterling  expressing  him- 
self about  Law's  answer  to  Mandeville  in  this  manner : 
'  I  cannot  refrain  from  sending  you  a  few  words  to 
announce  a  discovery  which  I  made  yesterday  after- 
noon. Looking  by  accident  into  William  Law's  works 
I  found  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  volume  an  answer 
to  Mandeville's  Fable  of  the  Bees.  The  first  section  is 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  philosophical  essays  I  have 
ever  seen  in  English.  This  section  has  all  the  highest 
beauty  of  Law's  polemical  compositions  with  a  weight 
of  pithy,  right  reason,  such  as  fills  one's  heart  with  joy.' 
So  highly  did  Maurice  also  think  of  Law's  Remarks  on 
the  Fable  of  the  Bees  that  he  published  a  special  edition 
of  the  neglected  book  in  1844  with  a  characteristic  and 
valuable  introduction  from  his  own  pen.  Even  Gibbon 
says  that  morality  as  well  as  religion  must  join  in  Law's 
applause  for  the  manner  in  which  he  drew  his  pen  against 
Mandeville's  licentious  doctrines.  The  Remarks  is, 
indeed,  a  fine  piece  of  philosophical  polemic,  red-hot 
throughout  with  a  passionate  indignation.  How  human 
virtue  has  its  origin  and  seat  and  sanction  in  the  Divine 
virtue  ;  how  obligation  arises  in  the  reason  and  con- 
science of  man  ;  how  our  human  idea  of  God  is  formed  ; 
how  and  what  happiness  is  the  perfection  of  human 
nature  ;  and  how  our  liberty  and  our  conduct  act  upon 
the  formation  of  character,  and  on  our  ultimate  desert 
and  destiny  : — the  whole  treatise  is,  indeed,  all  that  it 
has  been  called,  an  essay  in  moral  philosophy,  and  a  gem 
in  literature  such  that  to  read  it  fills  one's  heart  with  joy. 
Mandeville  is  a  powerful  and  attractive  writer.  He  sees 
the  seamy  side  of  life  ;  he  sees  seams  and  creases  and 
stains  and  scars,  indeed,  when  they  exist  only  in  his  own 


206  WILLIAM  LAW 

polluted  imagination  and  corrupt  heart.  I  can  quite 
well  understand  why  Mandeville  had  so  many  readers 
in  the  eighteenth  century  in  England,  and  why  so  few 
of  those  who  tried  it  were  able  to  answer  him. 

Law's  next  publication  was  a  sixpenny  pamphlet 
entitled  The  Absolute  Unlawfulness  of  the  Stage  Enter- 
tainment fully  Demonstrated.  '  I  am  sensible,'  says  Law, 
in  the  opening  sentence  of  his  tract,  '  that  the  title  of 
this  little  book  will,  to  the  generality  of  people,  seem 
too  high  a  flight ;  that  it  will  be  looked  upon  as  the 
effect  of  a  fanatical  spirit  carrying  matters  higher  than 
the  sobriety  of  religion  requires.'  And  the  anticipation 
of  its  author  has  turned  out  to  be  quite  true  concerning 
his  tremendous  attack  upon  the  theatre.  '  Law's 
admirers,'  says  Canon  Overton,  one  of  his  greatest 
admirers,  '  will  regret  that  he  ever  published  this  tract.' 
Well,  no.  I,  too,  am  one  of  Law's  admirers,  and  after 
reading  the  universally  disowned  tract  over  and  over 
again,  and  reading  it  in  the  light  of  all  that  has  been 
said  against  it,  I  cannot  honestly  say  that  I  regret  its 
publication.  I  know  something  of  what  has  been  said 
as  to  the  ideal  stage  with  all  its  educating,  refining, 
and  diverting  possibilities.  But,  all  the  more,  do  I  not 
regret  Law's  onslaught  on  the  actual  stage  of  his  day. 
No  doubt  Colo  was  put  on  the  stage  of  Law's  day,  but 
one  swallow  maketh  not  summer.  And,  if  for  nothing 
else,  I  read  and  re-read  the  tract  which  contains 
Trebonia,  who  goes  '  but  seldom  to  the  playhouse,  and 
then  either  with  her  mother  or  her  aunt.  And,  besides, 
she  always  knows  the  play  beforehand,  and  she  never 
goes  on  the  sacrament  week.'  And  Levis,  who  has 
this  to  set  against  all  Law's  arguments,  that '  the  diversion 
of  the  theatre  never  did  him  any  hurt.'  And  Jucunda, 
who,  with  great  cheerfulness,  says  that  '  after  all  is  said, 


WILLIAM  LAW  207 

the  stage  is  but  a  small  sin,  and,  considering  the  wicked- 
ness of  the  age,  she  thinks  that  the  person  who  is  only- 
guilty  of  going  to  the  play  is  in  a  very  good  state  indeed. 
God  send  I  may  have  no  greater  sin  to  answer  for  than 
seeing  a  play  !  '  Law  is  undoubtedly  strong  even  to 
extremity  in  his  polemic  against  the  stage  of  the 
eighteenth  century ;  but  after  the  true  mean  has  been 
found,  and  duty  and  safety  and  liberty  have  had  their 
boundaries  fixed  as  regards  this  diversion,  there  will 
remain  many  passages  in  this  tract  that  for  a  noble 
solemnity,  as  well  as  for  a  moral  severity,  William  Law 
alone  in  his  loose  generation  could  have  ventured  to 
write. 

In  his  thirty-eighth  year  Law  published  a  volume  of 
considerable  size,  entitled,  A  Practical  Treatise  upon 
Christiayi  Perfection.  This  was  Law's  first  treatise  on 
personal  religion,  and  its  appearance  placed  him  at 
once  in  the  very  first  rank  of  our  practical  and  homiletical 
authors  also.  I  do  not  wonder  at  the  immense  impression 
that  great  book  made  on  the  generation  to  which  it  was 
immediately  addressed  ;  for,  to  this  day,  it  is  impossible 
to  read  it  seriously  without  our  hearts  being  taken  by 
storm,  and  without  our  whole  after-life  being  powerfully 
affected  by  it.  As  his  method  always  is,  Law  begins  in 
the  Christian  Perfection  at  the  beginning.  He  bottoms 
his  book  deep  in  the  nature  of  fallen  man,  in  the  nature 
of  sin,  and  in  the  nature  and  design  of  true  religion  ; 
and  he  works  up  from  all  that  to  the  very  highest  attain- 
ments of  Christian  experience  and  out  from  all  that  to 
the  finest  fulfilments  of  Christian  obedience.  In  his 
Christian  Perfection,  Law  takes  us  into  a  strait  gate 
indeed,  and  leads  us  along  a  narrow  way  ;  but  what  of 
that  when  every  step  of  the  way  rewards  us  with  new 
liberty  and  with  a  nobler  prospect,  till  he  lands  us  at 


208  WILLIAM  LAW 

last  without  spot  or  blemish  before  the  throne  of  God. 
In  this,  as  in  all  his  practical  books,  Law  cuts  to  the 
bone.  He  seizes  and  holds  all  the  defiles  and  dark 
passes  of  the  heart.  When  John  Wesley  on  one  occasion 
complained  to  Law  that  his  doctrine  of  Christian  per- 
fection was  too  high  to  be  attainable,  Law  replied,  '  We 
shall  do  well  to  aim  at  the  liighest  degree  of  perfection 
if  we  may  thereby  at  least  attain  to  mediocrity.'  The 
literature  of  the  Christian  Perfection  also,  though  it  has 
not  yet  attained  to  the  balance  and  ease  and  finish  of 
the  Serious  Call,  is  delightful.  The  characters  who  cross 
the  stage  from  time  to  time  as  the  argument  goes  on  are 
drawn  with  aU  Law's  insight,  sagacity,  humane  satire, 
and  sparkling  wit,  till  those  who  sit  beside  us  as  we  read 
Law  to  ourselves  wonder  what  we  get  to  laugh  at  in  such 
a  forbidding  book. 

Law  is  in  his  thirty-ninth  year  when  we  find  him 
living  in  comfort  and  honour  and  happiness  in  Mr. 
Edward  Gibbon's  house  at  Putney  as  the  tutor  of  his 
son  who  was  afterwards  the  father  of  the  famous  historian. 
Gibbon,  the  old  merchant,  was  a  man  of  uncommon 
ability.  His  grandson  tells  us  with  pride  that  Lord 
Bolingbroke  had  been  heard  to  declare  that  he  had 
never  conversed  with  a  man  who  more  clearly  under- 
stood the  commerce  and  finance  of  England  than  Edward 
Gibbon  did.  And  the  old  merchant  showed  that  he 
understood  more  and  better  things  than  commerce  and 
finance  when  he  took  William  Law  into  his  household. 
Macaulay  has  three  or  four  very  characteristic  pages 
on  the  life  of  dependence  and  even  degradation  that  so 
many  of  the  nonjuring  and  unbeneficed  clergy  of  the 
Church  of  England  lived  in  the  houses  of  rich  city 
merchants  and  country  gentlemen  in  that  day.    But  the 


WILLIAM  LAW  209 

brilliant  and  epigrammatic  historian  would  have  had  to 
tone  down  his  highly  coloured  picture  of  the  trencher- 
chaplains  of  that  day  if  there  had  been  more  poor  scholars 
of  the  habits  and  character  and  temper  of  Mr.  Gibbon's 
chaplain-tutor.  We  are  deeply  indebted  to  John  Byrom's 
Journal  for  the  impressive  picture  we  possess  of  Law's 
life  at  Putney.  Byrom  is  a  kind  of  Pepys  in  the  way 
he  keeps  his  journal,  and  a  kind  of  Bos  well  in  the  way 
he  hangs  upon  and  worships  his  master.  And,  alto- 
gether, vain  and  lazy  and  garrulous  and  good-liver  as 
Byrom  is,  yet  he  compels  from  us  a  certain  respect  if 
only  for  his  love  of  good  men  and  good  books.  With 
all  Byrom's  provoking  ways  Law  had  a  great  liking 
for  the  restless  irrepressible  stenographer.  Byrom  had 
some  not  despicable  literary  gifts  of  his  own.  Three  or 
four  of  his  papers  were  admitted  into  the  Spectator,  and 
there  is  a  volume  of  poems  of  his  still  extant ;  but  it  is 
by  his  journal  that  Byrom  will  be  best  remembered,  and 
it,  again,  by  those  passages  in  it  in  which  William  Law 
appears.  Byrom  was  so  struck  and  so  influenced  for  good 
by  Law's  Serious  Call  and  Christian  Perfection  that  he 
took  boldness  to  go  out  to  Putney  and  introduce  himself 
to  the  great  author,  and  many  were  the  visits  he  after- 
wards made,  and  many  were  the  conversations  about 
men  and  books  they  held  together  as  they  walked  to 
and  fro  in  Mr.  Gibbon's  garden.  All  up  and  down 
Byrom's  queer  conglomerate  of  a  journal  Law's  name 
and  the  names  of  his  famous  books  continually  appear. 
We  talked  about  Mr.  Law  :  we  fell  out  about  Mr.  Law  : 
So-and-so  has  just  bought  and  begun  to  read  Mr.  Law's 
books  :  So-and-so's  life  has  been  totally  changed  by 
reading  Mr.  Law's  Call :  I  supped  too  late  and  ate  too 
much  last  night  and  lay  too  long  to-day  for  an  admirer 
of  Mr.  Law  :  in  a  multitude  of  such  coffee-house  entries  in 


210  WILLIAM  LAW 

his  journal  and  letters  to  his  wife,  Byrom  in  these  ways 
returns  to  Law  till  we  have  such  a  portrait  of  Law  as 
only  a  thousand  such  touches  can  produce.  But  all 
that  Byrom  writes  only  goes  to  establish  and  illustrate 
the  noble  praise  that  Gibbon  pronounces  on  Law  in 
his  Memoirs  of  My  Life  and  Writings.  '  In  our  family 
William  Law  left  the  reputation  of  a  worthy  and  pious 
man  who  believed  all  that  he  professed,  and  practised 
all  that  he  enjoined.'  That  from  Edward  Gibbon's 
mature  pen  is  a  monument  more  lasting  than  brass. 

Among  the  many  visitors  to  Putney  was  a  student 
from  Oxford  who  was  destined  to  make  a  deeper  and  a 
more  lasting  mark  on  the  world  than  any  other  man  of 
his  day.  Law's  books  had  made  a  very  deep  impression 
on  John  Wesley,  till,  as  Law  said  after  they  had  fallen 
out :  '  I  was  at  that  time  a  sort  of  oracle  to  John  Wesley.' 
The  bitter  quarrel  that  broke  out  between  Wesley  and 
Law  is  a  perplexing  and  a  painful  subject,  and  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  discuss  it  here.  The  ins  and  outs  of  the 
dispute  are  set  forth  with  admirable  impartiality  both 
by  Mr.  Tyerman  in  his  excellent  Life  of  Wesley  and  by 
Canon  Overton  in  his  equally  excellent  Life  of  Law. 
It  is  most  refreshing  and  reassuring,  and  it  reads  us  an 
excellent  lesson,  to  see  how  Tyerman  puts  Wesley  in  the 
wrong,  and  Overton  Law.  Both  biographers  bring  out 
that  Wesley's  attack  on  his  old  master  was  inevitable, 
given  the  man  and  given  the  great  change  he  passed 
through  after  he  had  taken  Peter  Bohler  to  be  his  new 
master.  But  it  is  not  the  less  to  be  deplored  that  the 
two  most  influential  and  two  of  the  best  men  of  that 
whole  century  should  have  made  themselves  such  a 
spectacle  of  acrimony  and  recrimination.  A  large  part 
if  not  the  whole  of  the  truth  in  that  most  unhappy 
controversy  lay  in  this  :    that  Law  and  Wesley  in  their 


WILLIAM  LAW  211 

intellectual  life  and  in  their  religious  experience,  as  well 
as  in  the  work  to  which  their  Master  had  called  them, 
were  perhaps  as  different  as  two  able  and  good  men 
could  well  be.  Wesley  was  fitted  to  be  a  popular  and 
most  impressive  preacher,  while  Law  was  never  allowed 
to  preach,  but  was  early  set  apart  by  Divine  Providence 
to  think  and  read  and  write.  The  work  of  Wesley's  life 
was  to  preach  aAvakening  sermons ;  whereas,  to  take 
up  already  awakened  and  converted  men,  and  especially 
converted  men  of  the  educated  and  intellectual  class, 
and  compel  them  to  a  more  consecrated  life,  was  the 
equally  divine  commission  of  William  Law.  And, 
surely,  if  they  could  only  both  have  seen  it,  there  was 
scope  enough  and  call  enough  within  the  lines  of 
Evangelical  Christianity  for  two  such  signally  gifted 
if  signally  individual  men.  We  see  now  that  William 
Law  without  John  Wesley,  as  well  as  John  Wesley 
without  William  Law,  would  have  left  the  religious  life 
and  literature  of  the  eighteenth  century  both  weak, 
one-sided,  and  unsafe.  Could  they  both  but  have  seen 
it,  both  were  indispensable  :  John  Wesley  to  complete 
William  Law,  and  William  Law  to  complete  John  Wesley. 
It  was  during  his  quiet  residence  at  Putney  that  Law 
wrote  his  famous  masterpiece,  the  Serious  Call.  1  shall 
not  enter  here  on  any  description  or  discussion  of  that 
matchless  book.  It  is  still  the  only  one  of  all  Law's 
books  that  is  easily  accessible ;  but,  happily,  it  is 
easily  accessible  to  everybody.  I  shall  not  begin,  great 
as  the  temptation  is,  to  praise  the  Serious  Call,  or  even  to 
attempt  to  say  what  I  myself  owe  to  it  and  through  it 
to  its  author.  Let  those  praise  the  book  who  can  do  so 
with  authority,  and  whose  voices  will  be  listened  to. 
Take,  first,  what  John  Wesley  says  about  this  book, 
after  his  lifelong  quarrel  with  its  author.     '  The  Serious 


212  WILLIAM  LAW 

Call,^  says  Wesley  in  his  old  age,  '  is  a  treatise  which 
will  hardly  be  excelled,  if  it  be  equalled,  in  the  English 
tongue,  either  for  beauty  of  expression,  or  for  justness 
and  depth  of  thought.  It  is  a  treatise  which  must 
remain,  as  long  as  England  endures,  an  almost  unequalled 
standard  of  the  strength  and  purity  of  our  language  as 
well  as  of  sound  practical  divinity.'  '  Soon  after  I  went 
to  the  university,'  says  George  Whitefield,  '  I  met  with 
Mr.  Law's  Serious  Call,  but  had  not  money  to  purchase 
it.  Afterwards  I  purchased  a  small  edition  of  the  book, 
and  by  means  of  it  God  worked  powerfully  upon  my 
soul  as  He  has  since  upon  many  others  by  that  and  by 
Law's  other  excellent  treatise,  the  Christian  Perfection.^ 
'  When  I  was  at  Oxford,'  said  Dr.  Johnson,  '  I  took  up 
Law's  Serious  Call  to  a  Holy  Life,  expecting  to  find  it  a 
dull  book  (as  such  books  generally  are),  and  perhaps  to 
laugh  at  it.  But  I  found  Law  quite  an  overmatch  for 
me,  and  this  was  the  first  occasion  of  my  thinking  in 
earnest  of  religion.'  And  again  :  '  Law's  Serious  Call 
is  the  finest  piece  of  hortatory  theology  in  any  language.' 
'  Mr.  Law's  masterpiece,'  says  Gibbon,  '  is  a  powerful 
book.  His  precepts  are  rigid,  but  they  are  founded  on 
the  gospel ;  his  satire  is  sharp,  but  it  is  drawn  from  his 
knowledge  of  human  life,  and  many  of  his  portraits  are 
not  unworthy  the  pen  of  La  Bruyere.'  '  Though  I  live,' 
writes  a  minister,  '  in  a  small  country  village,  I  have 
had  sufficient  work  on  my  hands  to  bring  my  parishioners 
to  any  tolerable  degree  of  piety  and  goodness.  I  preached 
and  laboured  among  them  incessantly ;  and  yet,  after 
all,  was  convinced  that  my  work  had  been  as  fruitless  as 
casting  pearls  before  swine.  I  purchased  many  religious 
works  and  distributed  them  among  my  people  ;  but, 
alas  !  I  could  perceive  no  visible  effects.  About  this 
time  I  happened  to  peruse  Mr.  Law's  Serious  Call,  with 


WILLIAM  LAW  213 

which  I  was  so  much  charmed  and  greatly  edified  that  I 
resolved  my  flock  should  partake  of  the  same  spiritual 
food.  I  therefore  gave  to  each  person  in  my  parish  one 
of  those  useful  books,  and  charged  them  upon  my  blessing 
to  carefully  peruse  the  same.  My  perseverance  was  now 
crowned  with  success,  and  I  had  the  satisfaction  of 
beholding  my  people  reclaimed  from  a  life  of  folly  and 
impiety  to  a  life  of  holiness  and  devotion.'  And  the 
Rev.  David  Young  of  Perth,  who  prepared  an  edition  of 
the  Serious  Call  for  publication  by  William  Collins  of 
Glasgow  in  1827,  says  of  it,  '  The  Serious  Call  will  never 
fall  into  oblivion.  It  is  sustained  by  a  brilliancy  of 
genius,  and  has  risen  to  a  rank  of  favour  with  the  intel- 
lectual and  the  tasteful  which  no  neglect  and  no  vitu- 
peration of  its  enemies  can  overcome.'  And  Mr.  Birrell, 
in  his  Ues  Judicatce,  describes  William  Law  to  his  readers 
as  '  the  inimitable  author  of  the  Serious  Call '  ;  and 
speaking  of  Gibbon,  goes  on  to  say  that '  splendid  achieve- 
ment of  learning  and  industry  though  the  Decline  and 
Fall  may  be,  glorious  monument  though  it  is,  more 
lasting  than  marble,  yet  in  sundry  moods  it  seems  but  a 
poor  and  barren  thing  by  the  side  of  a  book,  which, 
like  the  Serious  Call,  has  proved  its  power  "  to  pierce 
the  heart  and  tame  the  will."  ' 

Matthew  Tindal  was  the  Voltaire  of  England  with- 
out Voltaire's  genius.  As  it  was,  Tindal  was  by  far 
the  ablest  enemy  of  revealed  religion.  Law  was  at  his 
best  when  Tindal's  attack  on  Christianity  appeared, 
and  he  lost  no  time  in  putting  on  his  armour.  Mr. 
Leslie  Stephen  has  very  little  sympathy  with  William 
Law's  religious  principles,  but  Mr.  Stephen  is  historian 
enough  and  critic  enough  to  hold  the  scales  even  when 
he  is  weighing  the  merits  of  the  deistical  debate.  '  The 
question  raised,'  says    Stephen,   '  by   Law's  answer   to 


214  WILLIAM  LAW 

Tindal  is  how  such  a  master  of  English  and  of  reasoning 
should  have  sunk  into  such  obhvion.'  Dr.  Arnold  has 
described  the  eighteenth  century  as  the  great  misused 
seed-time  of  modern  Europe.  William  Law's  works 
were  among  the  richest  seed-baskets  of  that  century,  and 
its  seed  stands  still  unused  down  at  the  end  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  Those  who  love  practical  religion  best 
give  the  palm  to  the  Serious  Call ;  but  there  have  been 
able  theologians  who  have  held  that  The  Case  of  Reason  is 
Law's  masterpiece.  Speaking  for  myself,  I  prefer  several 
of  LaAv's  books  to  his  reply  to  Tindal ;  but  that  does  not 
prevent  me  from  feeling  and  acknowledging  the  massive- 
ness  of  mind  and  the  nobleness  of  spirit  with  which  the 
argument  against  Deism  is  carried  on.  '  Here  at  last,* 
Leslie  Stephen  sums  up,  '  we  are  face  to  face  with  a  man 
who  believes  what  he  says,  who  is  fighting  for  what  he 
loves,  and  is  striking  at  the  heart.  This  man  despises 
your  vamped-up  and  second-hand  eloquence,  he  writes 
with  the  freedom  of  a  man  who  is  thoroughly  at  home 
in  his  own  doctrines,  and  with  the  force,  brilliance,  and 
terseness  of  a  clear-headed  reasoner.  Law  simply  tears 
Tindal's  flimsy  fallacy  to  rags.' 

For  ten  years  the  poor  nonjuring  scholar  had  found  a 
happy  home  in  Mr.  Gibbon's  house  at  Putney.  So  much 
esteemed  was  the  tutor  by  the  head  of  the  house  and  by 
the  whole  family,  and  so  famous  as  the  years  went  on 
had  his  name  become,  that  Law  was  looked  on  less  as  a 
dependent  than  a  beloved  and  honoured  member  of  the 
household.  Mr.  Gibbon's  hospitable  table  was  always 
open  to  his  tutor's  visitors,  Byrom,  the  Wesleys,  and 
suchlike  ;  his  purse  was  always  open  when  his  tutor  wished 
to  buy  books  ;  and,  altogether.  Law  had  ten  years  of 
great  intellectual  activity  and  great  happiness  in  the  old 


WILLIAM  LAW  215 

merchant's  house  at  Putney.  But  Mr.  Gibbon's  death 
in  1736  suddenly  put  an  end  to  all  that,  and  soon  after 
we  find  Law  back  again  at  King's  Cliffe  and  settled  as  a 
bachelor  householder  in  an  old  edifice  that  had  been  left 
to  him  by  his  deceased  father.  In  the  year  1744  we 
find  the  old  palace,  as  it  was  called,  peopled  by  a  most 
remarkable  household.  A  widow  lady,  named  Mrs. 
Hutcheson,  along  with  Miss  Hester  Gibbon,  one  of  his 
old  pupils  and  an  aunt  of  the  future  historian,  had 
entered  into  a  domestic  arrangement  with  Law,  and  had 
taken  up  their  quarters  in  King  John's  palace,  as  the  old 
house  was  by  tradition  called.  By  Christopher  Walton's 
passionate  devotion  to  all  that  belongs  to  the  name  of 
WiUiam  Law,  we  have  collected  for  us  a  mass  of  bio- 
graphical material  belonging  to  this  period  of  Law's  life 
which  only  waits  for  the  fit  biographer,  for  whom  Walton 
so  long  advertised  in  vain,  to  digest  that  indefatigable 
collector's  stores  into  one  of  the  most  interesting,  im- 
pressive, and  instructive  chapters  of  Christian  biography 
in  the  language.  I  question  if  there  is  a  more  arresting, 
impressive,  and  instructive  picture  in  the  whole  range  of 
Christian  biography  than  we  have  in  the  daily  round  of 
study  and  devotion  and  charity  that  William  Law  punc- 
tiliously fulfilled  for  the  next  twenty  years  in  the  old 
mansion-house  at  King's  Chffe. 

Law  by  this  time  was  well  turned  fifty,  but  he  rises  as 
early  and  is  as  soon  at  his  desk  as  when  he  was  still  a  new, 
enthusiastic,  and  scrupulously  methodical  student  at 
Cambridge.  Summer  and  winter  Law  rose  to  his  devo- 
tions and  his  studies  at  five  o'clock,  not  because  he  had 
imperative  sermons  to  prepare,  but  because,  in  his  own 
words,  it  is  more  reasonable  to  suppose  a  person  up  early 
because  he  is  a  Christian  than  because  he  is  a  labourer 
or  a  tradesman  or  a  servant.     I  have  a  great  deal  of 


216  WILLIAM  LAW 

business  to  do,  he  would  say.  I  have  a  hardened  heart 
to  change  ;  I  have  still  the  whole  spirit  of  religion  to  get. 
When  Law  at  any  time  felt  a  temptation  to  relax  his  rule 
of  early  devotion  he  again  reminded  himself  how  fast  he 
was  becoming  an  old  man,  and  how  far  back  his  sancti- 
fication  still  was,  till  he  flung  himself  out  of  bed  and  began 
again  to  make  himself  a  new  heart  before  the  servants 
had  lighted  their  fires  or  the  farmers  had  yoked  their 
horses.  Shame  on  you,  he  said  to  himself,  to  lie  folded 
up  in  a  bed  when  you  might  be  pouring  out  your  heart 
in  prayer  and  praise,  and  thus  be  preparing  yourself  for 
a  place  among  those  blessed  beings  who  rest  not  day  and 
night,  saying,  Holy,  Holy,  Holy  !  All  the  time  he  was 
dressing,  and  till  he  sat  down  to  his  desk,  Law  occupied 
his  thoughts  with  thanksgiving.  He  had  laid  himself 
down  last  night  saying  to  himself.  What,  O  my  soul,  if 
we  should  waken  in  eternity  !  And  that  he  wakened 
once  more  in  a  place  of  repentance  and  had  another 
day  of  salvation  and  service  before  him  was  every  new 
morning  a  fresh  cause  of  warm  thanksgiving.  As  a  rule, 
he  began  his  devotions  with  a  thanksgiving  psalm  or 
chapter  or  collect,  but  he  did  not  confine  himself  to  any 
one  form  of  prayer  or  praise.  As  soon  as  he  felt  his  heart 
ready  to  break  forth  into  strains  of  devotion  on  its  own 
account  and  in  its  own  language,  he  immediately  gave 
himself  up  to  those  inward  fervours.  Not  seldom  he 
needed  no  book  at  all.  Not  seldom,  both  in  the  early 
morning  and  all  the  day,  Law  was  so  filled  with  an 
overpowering  compunction  that  no  language  could 
relieve  his  heart  but  that  of  silent  tears.  Then,  again, 
he  religiously  reserved  a  certain  spot,  first  of  his  bed- 
room and  then  of  his  little  study,  for  secret  prayer. 
He  never  allowed  himself  to  do  anything  common  on 
that  spot,  till  he  came  to  find  that  just  to  kneel  in  that 


WILLIAM  LAW  217 

spot  was  a  real  and  sure  assistance  toward  a  spirit  of 
prayer. 

He  collected  also  into  a  manuscript  book,  and  that  not 
for  pulpit  use,  but  for  his  OAvn  secret  assistance,  all  the 
best  forms  of  devotion  he  ever  lighted  on.  As  he  read 
the  Psalms,  he  collected  all  the  confessions,  petitions, 
praises,  resignations,  and  thanksgivings  scattered  up  and 
down  the  Psalter,  and  ranged  them  under  their  proper 
heads  as  so  much  sacred  fuel  for  his  own  fire.  And  from 
all  this  he  discovered  that  though  the  spirit  of  devotion 
is  the  gift  of  God,  and  not  attainable  by  any  mere  power 
of  our  own,  yet  it  is  mostly  given  to,  and  never  withheld 
from,  those  who  by  a  wise  and  diligent  use  of  the  proper 
means,  prepare  themselves  for  the  reception  of  it.  Many 
a  morning  Law  never  got  to  his  studies  at  all,  and  nine 
o'clock,  the  third  hour  of  his  day  of  study  and  prayer, 
had  often  come  before  he  had  got  himself  torn  away  from 
the  devotions  and  meditations  of  the  early  morning.  A 
deeper  humility  was  always  the  burden  of  Law's  prayers 
for  himself  at  the  third  hour  of  the  day.  Law's  work 
lay  largely,  as  we  have  seen,  in  philosophical  and  theo- 
logical controversy,  and  he  felt  a  mighty  want  of  humility 
in  his  intercourse  with  men  and  papers  and  books.  And, 
full  of  pride  and  scorn  and  contempt  and  ill-will  as  he 
knew  liimself  by  nature  to  be,  he  felt  a  wonderful  change 
gradually  coming  over  his  spirit  as  he  prayed  year  after 
year,  and  every  day  of  the  year,  expressly  and  particu- 
larly, and  pleading  instances  for  the  divine  nature  of 
humility.  After  an  hour  spent  at  the  appointed  place 
where  he  met  every  forenoon  the  poor  of  the  village  and 
even  the  mendicants  of  the  whole  country,  he  had  two 
or  three  hours  of  hard  study  before  dinner-time.  But 
before  he  appeared  at  early  dinner  he  had  a  fixed  appoint- 
ment to  pray  in  secret  every  day  for  the  divine  grace  of 


218  WILLIAM  LAW 

universal  love.  See  what  he  says  in  the  Serious  Call 
about  universal  love.  It  would  open  your  eyes,  it  would 
alter  your  whole  life,  both  of  prayer  and  of  practice. 

One  thing  he  keeps  saying  continually,  and  that  is  the 
sure  sanctification  that  comes  to  that  man's  own  sinful 
heart  who  is  importunate  and  particular  in  intercessory 
prayer.  You  cannot,  he  argues,  continue  to  hate  or  envy, 
or  feel  spite  or  ill-will  at  a  man  if  you  persist  in  praying 
for  him  and  seeking  his  good.  It  is  an  axiom  of  Law's 
that  intercessory  prayer  is  an  infallible  means  of  renew- 
ing and  cleansing  and  sweetening  the  heart.  Try  it,  he 
says,  and  see.  Sir  James  Mackintosh  has  claimed  the 
striking  title  of  a  discoverer  in  morals  for  Bishop  Butler 
on  the  ground  of  his  doctrine  of  conscience  in  his  Three 
Sermons  on  Human  Nature ;  and  no  lower  designation 
than  that  of  a  discoverer  in  experimental  religion  will 
adequately  describe  William  Law  in  what  he  has  written 
on  the  reflex  effects  of  intercessory  prayer.  '  What 
remains,'  says  Butler,  in  his  profound  sermon  on  The 
Ignorance  of  Man,  '  is  that  we  learn  to  keep  our  heart, 
to  govern  and  regulate  our  passions  and  our  affections, 
that  we  may  be  free  from  the  impotencies  of  fear,  envy, 
malice,  covetousness,  ambition,  considered  as  vices  seated 
in  the  heart.  He  who  should  find  out  one  rule  to  assist 
us  in  this  work  would  deserve  infinitely  better  of  man- 
kind than  all  the  improvers  of  all  other  knowledge  put 
together.'  Now,  what  is  claimed  for  Wilham  Law  is 
just  this,  that  he  has  found  out  such  a  rule.  Let  any 
man  who  is  keeping  his  heart  with  all  diligence  just  try 
Law's  rule  upon  his  own  heart  and  see  the  result.  Every 
day  the  London  post  brought  letters  to  King's  Cliffe  from 
people  who  were  reading  the  recluse's  books  and  were 
getting  untold  good  out  of  them.  But  the  postman's 
bag  brought  other  things  also.     A  great  controversy — 


WILLIAM  LAW  219 

many  great  controversies — had  sprung  up  out  of  Law's 
writings.  We  have  already  seen  what  a  many-sided  and 
powerful  controversialist  Law  was.  He  had  been  a  man 
of  war  for  the  truth  from  his  youth  up.  His  hand  had 
been  against  every  enemy  of  the  truth.  And  he  had  all 
a  controversialist's  temptations  to  overcome.  And  how 
was  a  constant  controversialist  like  Law  to  keep  himself 
humble  and  full  of  universal  love  ?  How,  but  just  by 
the  way  Law  spent  the  ninth  hour  of  every  day  ?  When 
things  seemed  to  go  ill  with  the  cause  of  truth  and  right- 
eousness in  controversy  or  in  actual  life,  Law  at  once  fell 
back  on  the  assurance  that  God's  ways  must  of  necessity 
be  a  great  deep  to  the  mind  of  man.  And  when  hurts 
and  wrongs,  crosses  and  vexations  came  to  himself,  Law 
knew  himself  well  enough  to  see  why  God  sent  them  or 
permitted  them  to  come.  It  was  often  remarked  that 
Law  struck  only  for  the  truth.  There  was  never  perhaps 
a  lifelong  controversialist  whose  hands  were  so  clean 
of  his  enemy's  blood.  You  are  here,  he  said  to  himself, 
to  have  no  tempers,  and  no  self-designs,  and  no  self-ends, 
but  to  fill  some  place,  and  act  some  part,  in  strict  com- 
formity  and  thankful  resignation  to  the  Divine  good 
pleasure.  Begin,  therefore,  in  the  smallest  matters  and 
most  ordinary  occasions,  and  accustom  yourself  to  the 
daily  exercise  of  this  pious  temper  in  the  lowest  occur- 
rences of  life.  And  when  a  contempt,  an  affront,  a  little 
injury,  a  loss,  or  a  disappointment,  or  the  smallest  events 
of  every  day  come  to  try  you,  continually  raise  your 
mind  to  God  in  proper  acts  of  resignation,  and  then  you 
may  justly  hope  that  you  shall  be  numbered  among 
those  who  are  resigned  and  thankful  to  God  in  the  greatest 
trials  and  afflictions.  '  Perform,'  says  a  writer  in  morals, 
'  a  little  gratuitous  exercise  every  day.  That  is  to  say, 
be  systematically  ascetic  or  heroic  in  little  unnecessary 


220  WILLIAM  LAW 

points ;  do  every  day  or  two  something  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  you  would  rather  not  do  it ;  so  that, 
when  the  hour  of  dire  need  draws  nigh,  it  may  find  you 
nerved  and  trained  to  stand  the  test.  Then  you  will 
stand  like  a  tower  when  everything  rocks  around  you 
and  when  your  softer  fellow-mortals  are  scattered  like 
chaff.'  I  leave  you  to  picture  Law  at  bedtime  to  your- 
selves after  telling  you  what  he  says  about  self-examina- 
tion. An  evening  repentance,  he  says,  which  brings  all 
the  actions  of  the  day  to  account  is  not  only  necessary 
to  wipe  off  the  guilt  of  sin,  but  is  also  the  most  certain 
way  to  amend  and  perfect  our  lives.  For  it  is  only  such 
a  repentance  as  this  is  that  touches  the  heart,  awakens 
the  conscience,  and  leaves  a  horror  and  detestation  of 
sin  upon  the  mind.  An  examination  thus  managed  will 
in  a  little  time  make  you  as  different  from  yourself  as  a 
wise  man  is  different  from  an  idiot.  It  will  give  you  such 
a  newness  of  mind,  such  a  spirit  of  wisdom,  and  such  a 
desire  after  perfection  as  you  were  an  utter  stranger  to 
before.  Represent  to  your  imagination  that  your  bed 
is  your  grave,  and  that  you  have  no  more  to  do  with  this 
world,  and  then  commit  yourself  to  sleep,  as  into  the  hands 
of  God,  as  one  that  is  to  have  no  more  opportunities  of 
doing  good,  but  is  to  awake  among  spirits  that  are  separate 
from  the  body  and  are  waiting  for  the  judgment  of  the 
last  great  day.  This,  if  you  pursue  it,  is  a  practice  that 
will  soon  have  an  excellent  effect  upon  your  spirit  and 
your  life.  '  How,'  asks  the  disciple  of  the  Master  in 
Behmen's  Supersensual  Life,  '  how  shall  I  be  able  to 
subsist  in  all  this  anxiety  and  tribulation  so  as  not  to 
lose  the  eternal  peace  ? '  And  the  Master  answers  : 
'  If  thou  dost  once  every  hour  throw  thyself  by  faith 
beyond  all  creatures  into  the  abysmal  mercy  of  God, 
into  the  sufferings  of  our  Lord,  and  into  the  fellowship  of 


WILLIAM  LAW  221 

His  intercession,  and  yieldest  thyself  fully  and  absolutely 
thereinto,  then  thou  shalt  receive  power  from  above  to 
rule  over  death  and  the  devil,  and  to  subdue  hell  and  the 
world  under  thee.  And  then  thou  mayest  not  only 
endure  in  all  manner  of  temptation,  but  be  actually  the 
better  and  the  brighter  because  of  them.'  By  a  life  of 
study  of  the  best  authors,  by  a  life  of  good  works  and 
devotional  tempers  and  practices  such  as  these,  William 
Law  kept  his  mind  open  to  all  truth,  and  his  heart  open  to 
all  love,  and  his  life  open  to  all  opportunities  of  doing 
good,  till  he  made  himself,  till  God  made  him,  the  ablest 
defender  of  the  truth,  the  most  powerful  and  impressive 
writer  on  practical  religion  of  his  day,  and  one  of  the  most 
saintly  men  that  ever  lived  on  the  earth. 

During  the  Putney  period  of  his  life,  when  Law  was 
standing  one  day  in  the  door  of  his  publisher's  shop  in 
Paternoster  Row  looking  at  the  passing  crowd,  a  young 
man  in  the  dress  and  with  the  manners  of  a  gentleman's 
servant  stepped  out  of  the  crowd  and  asked  him  if  he 
was  Mr.  Law,  and  put  a  letter  with  that  address  into  his 
hand.  When  Law  opened  the  letter  he  found  inside  of 
it  a  bank-note  for  a  thousand  pounds.  No  name  accom- 
panied the  note  and  by  the  time  that  Law  had  looked  up 
from  his  letter  the  messenger  had  gone.  But  there  could 
be  no  doubt  about  it.  There  was  the  correct  address, 
The  Reverend  William  Law,  M.A.,  and  inside  the  thou- 
sand pounds.  Some  well-wisher,  some  one  who  had 
read  the  Three  Letters  and  the  Christian  Perfection,  had 
taken  this  anonymous  way  of  conveying  his  gratitude 
to  the  unbeneficed  author.  Before  Law  had  left  the 
doorstep  he  had  taken  his  resolution ;  for,  has  not 
Gibbon  told  us  that  his  father's  old  tutor  believed  all  that 
he  professed  and  practised  all  that  he  enjoined  ?  For 
years  Law  had  had  the  poor  widows  and  orphans  of 


222  WILLIAM  LAW 

King's  Cliffe  on  his  heart,  and  he  had  often  said  to  him- 
self that  if  he  were  only  a  rich  man  they  should  not  need 
to  beg  their  bread.  And  now,  behold,  in  a  moment, 
and  without  any  effort  or  desert  of  his,  he  was  a  rich 
man.  And,  accordingly,  next  morning  Law  took  the 
first  coach  to  King's  Chffe  and  before  he  returned  to 
Putney  he  had  made  arrangements  for  the  building  and 
endowment  of  a  residential  school  for  fourteen  poor 
girls.  And  then  in  after-years  when  he  had  retired  to  the 
Manor  House  of  his  native  town,  and  when  his  books 
had  begim  to  bring  him  in  some  royalty,  and  when  old 
Mrs.  Hutcheson,  the  rich  merchant's  widow,  and  Miss 
Gibbon,  his  old  pupil,  had  come  to  live  with  him,  the 
three  charitable  souls  all  threw  their  incomes  into  a 
common  purse,  lived  with  all  the  frugality  and  modesty 
set  forth  in  Law's  practical  books,  the  Christian  Perfection 
and  the  Serious  Call,  and  gave  all  to  the  poor.  Schools 
were  built  for  orphan  boys  and  girls.  Viduarum  Hospitia 
were  endowed.  Schoolmasters'  houses  and  a  library 
were  fitted  up  which  last  as  '  The  Law  and  Hutcheson 
Charities '  to  this  day.  Rule  5  for  the  King's  Cliffe 
hospital  runs  thus  :  '  Only  such  old  and  poor  women, 
widows  or  ancient  maidens,  as  are  of  good  report  for  their 
sobriety,  industry,  and  Christian  character  in  their 
several  stations  are  qualified.  No  ancient  women  of 
ill  manners,  or  of  unchristian  behaviour,  no  idle,  gossip- 
ing, or  slothful  persons  shall  be  nominated.'  At  the 
same  time,  while  all  this  tender  and  scrupulous  care  was 
taken  of  the  Christian  poor,  the  window  of  Law's  study 
was  open  for  an  hour  every  forenoon  at  which  his  charity 
ran  so  free  that  he  got  into  difficulties  with  the  rector 
for  demoralising  the  parish  with  his  too  open  window. 
The  rules  and  regulations  of  the  Law  and  Hutcheson 
schools  are  extant  to  this  day  in  the  handwriting  of  Mr. 


WILLIAM  LAW  223 

Law  and  Miss  Gibbon.  They  run  on  such  hues  as 
these  :  '  Rule  18.  The  master  at  his  first  entrance  into 
the  school  in  the  morning  is  to  pray  with  the  children, 
and  again  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  again  at  their  breaking 
up  in  the  evening.'  And  Rule  4  for  the  girls'  school, 
'  Every  girl  at  her  entrance  in  the  morning  shall  kneel 
down  by  her  mistress  and  with  her  hands  held  up  together 
shall  say  the  prayer  appointed  for  the  morning,  and 
before  they  go  away  shall  say  the  prayers  for  the  evening, 
and  at  their  rising  up  shall  make  a  curtsey.  .  .  .  No  girl 
shall  talk,  or  laugh,  or  make  any  noise  in  the  room 
where  her  mistress  is.  Every  girl  that  gives  the  lie  to 
any  other  girl,  or  calls  another  a  fool,  or  uses  any  rude 
or  unmannerly  word,  shall  kneel  down  and  in  the  presence 
of  them  all  shall  say,  I  am  heartily  sorry  for  the  wicked 
words  that  I  have  spoken.  I  humbly  beg  pardon  of 
God  and  of  all  you  that  are  here  present,  hoping  and 
promising  by  the  help  of  God  never  to  offend  again  in 
like  manner.  Then  shall  the  girl  that  she  has  abused 
come  and  take  her  up  from  her  knees  and  kiss  her,  and 
both  turning  to  their  mistress,  they  shall  make  a  curtsey 
and  return  to  their  seats.  .  .  .  Every  girl  when  she 
walks  in  the  streets  shall  make  curtseys  to  all  masters 
and  mistresses  of  families,  and  to  all  ancient  people 
whether  rich  or  poor.  They  shall  also  make  a  curtsey 
when  they  enter  into  any  house  and  at  their  coming 
out  of  it.'  And  so  on  for  seventeen  such  happy  rules 
which  were  read  over  and  explained  to  the  children  every 
Monday  morning  when  the  children  all  knelt  down  and 
said  after  the  mistress  the  following  prayer  :  '  Almighty 
and  Most  Merciful  Father,  we  give  Thee  humble  thanks 
for  all  Thy  mercies  to  us  and  to  all  mankind.  We  bless 
Thy  Holy  Name  for  that  Thou  hast  called  us  to  this 
place  to  be  brought  up  in  Thy  faith  and  fear,  to  learn 


224  WILLIAM  LAW 

Thy  holy  word,  and  to  turn  our  hearts  to  Thee  in  the 
days  of  our  youth.  We  here  offer  ourselves,  our  souls, 
and  our  bodies,  to  Thee.  Grant  us.  Holy  Father,  that 
we,  thus  beginning  our  lives  in  humility  and  labour, 
in  praying  and  reading,  may,  as  we  grow  in  age,  grow 
in  good  works,  and  at  last  attain  the  salvation  of  our 
souls,  through  the  merits  and  mediation  of  our  Blessed 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  Our  Father,  Which  art  in 
heaven.  .  .  .'  Such,  adds  the  indefatigable  Walton,  are  the 
particulars  of  the  charities  established  at  King's  Cliffe  by 
Mr.  Law  and  under  his  direction,  which,  in  common  with 
all  the  other  public  acts  and  monuments  of  his  life,  are 
calculated  to  endear  his  name  and  character  for  wisdom, 
piety,  and  benevolence  to  the  latest  generations. 

Nonjuror  and  mystic  is  the  description  that  William 
Law  usually  goes  by  on  the  title-pages  of  his  biographers 
and  in  the  references  made  to  him  in  church  histories 
and  in  religious  literature.  We  have  seen  something  of 
the  life  that  the  nonjuror  led  and  the  work  that  he  did  ; 
and  it  now  remains  for  us  to  look  for  a  little  at  Law  as 
the  chief  of  the  English  mystics.  Most  interesting  as 
the  subject  is,  and  helpful  as  a  short  estimate  of  mysticism 
would  be  to  enable  us  fully  to  understand  Law,  that 
cannot  be  attempted  here.  I  must  content  myself  with 
the  bare  mention  of  the  names  of  a  few  mystical  writers — 
'  spiritual  writers  '  Law  always  called  them  ;  but  the 
mere  mention  of  their  names  will  perhaps  leave  some 
idea  in  our  minds  of  what  a  mystic  is.  Plato  was  the 
prince  of  mystics  among  the  Greek  philosophers.  And 
the  Apostle  John  may,  with  all  due  reverence,  be  said  to 
be  a  kind  of  mystic  among  the  writers  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. Passing  by  fathers  and  mediaeval  philosophers 
and  theologians  who  partake  more  or  less  of  the  mystic 


WILLIAM  LAW  225 

spirit,  we  come  to  such  men  as  Tauler,  a  Kempis,  the 
author    of    the    Theologia    Germanica,    Jacob    Behmen, 
Samuel    Rutherford    with     all    his    logic,    Peter    Sterry 
Cromwell's  chaplain,  the  Cambridge  Platonists,  Fenelon, 
Leighton,   Jonathan   Edwards   in   his   earlier  and   later 
writings,  William  Blake,  Coleridge  in  some  moods  of  his 
mind,  Carlyle  in  some  moods  of  his  mind,  Newman  in 
some  moods  of  his  mind,  Wordsworth,  Maurice,  Keble, 
Tennyson  in  his  In  Memoriam  especially,  Stewart  and 
Tait    in    their     Unseen     Universe,    Martensen,    George 
MacDonald,  and  suchlike.     The  mere  mention  of  these 
names,  far  apart  as  their  owners  are  in  time  as  well  as 
in  many  other  things,  will  yet  leave  with  us  a  picture  of 
a  certain  type  of  mind  and  heart  that  we  may  not  in- 
correctly call  the  mystic  type.     The  true  mystic  begins 
with  and  never  loses  sight  of  this  foundation  truth,  that 
man  is  made  in  the  image  of  God.     All  Christian  men 
admit  that ;   but  it  is  the  distinguishing  mark  of  the  true 
mystic  that  he  never  forgets  his  high  original,  it  is  ever 
with   him   penetrating,    illuminating,    and    inspiring   all 
his  reflections  and  all  his  devotions.     Our  Lord's  words 
also,  '  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  within  you,'  are  deep 
down  in  the  mystic's  heart.     As  are  also  John's  words 
concerning  '  the  true  light  which  lighteth  every  man  that 
Cometh  into  the  world,'  and,  indeed,  all  that  John  has 
written  both  in  his  Gospel  and  in  his  Epistles.     And  Paul, 
who  has  everything,  has  mysticism  too,  and  that  even 
in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans.     '  The  invisible  things  of 
God  are  clearly  seen  from  the  creation  of  the  world, 
being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made.'     Not  to 
speak  of  the  whole  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  and 
much  more.     '  I  thank  God,'  wrote  Law  in  one  of  his 
last  books,  '  that  I  have  been  a  diligent  reader  of  the 
mystical  divines,  through  all  ages  of  the  church,  from 

p 


226  WILLIAM  LAW 

the  apostolical  Dionysius  the  Areopagite  down  to  the 
great  Fenelon  and  the  illuminated  Guion.'     But  of  all 
these  mystical  writers  it  was  the  poor  unlettered  German 
shoemaker,  Jacob  Behmen,  that  made  William  Law  a 
mystic.     I  can  well  believe  that  there  are  some  of  my 
readers  who  never  heard  so  much  as  the  name  of  Jacob 
Behmen,  and  there  cannot  be  many  who  have  ever  read 
a  line  of  his  marvellous  books.     '  In  an  intimate  inter- 
view I  had  with  Mr.  Law  a  few  months  before  his  decease,' 
says  one  of  Law's  early  biographers,  '  I  inquired  of  him 
when  and  how  he  first  met  with  Jacob  Behmen's  works. 
He  replied   that  he   had   often  reflected  upon  it   with 
surprise  that  although  when  a  tutor  in  London  he  had 
rummaged  every  bookseller's  shop  and  book-stall  in  the 
metropolis,  yet  he  had  never  met  with  a  single  book  of 
Jacob  Behmen's  or  even  so  much  as  knew  the  title  of 
any  one  of  them.     The  first  notice  he  had  of  Behmen 
was  from  a  treatise  called  Fides  et  Ratio,  published  at 
Amsterdam    (1707),    and    soon    after    he     accidentally 
obtained  one  of  the  best  of  Behmen's  books.     "  When 
I  first  began  to  read  Behmen's  book,"  he  says,  "  it  put 
me  into  a  perfect  sweat.     But  as  I  discerned  sound  truths 
and  the  glimmerings  of  a  deep  ground  and  sense  even  in 
the  passages  not  then  clearly  intelligible  to  me,  I  followed 
the  impulse  to  dig  in  Behmen  with  continual  prayer   to 
God  for  His   help   to   understand  His   servant,   till   at 
length  I  discovered  the  wonderful  treasure  there  was 
hid   in  this  field."  '     Know  thyself,  said  Jacob  Behmen 
in  every  page  of  his  heart-searching  books  to  Wilham 
Law.     Seek   above   every   other   search   the   one   noble 
knowledge  of  thyself.     For,  only  in  the  ever-deepening 
knowledge  of  thyself  shalt  thou  come  to  know  sin,  and 
only  in  the  knowledge  of  thyself  and  thy  sinfulness  shalt 
thou  ever  know  aught  aright  of  God.    Self  is  sin  and 


WILLIAM  LAW  227 

God  is  love.  Seek  all  thy  knowledge,  therefore,  in  the 
still  deeper  knowledge  of  thyself.  Count  all  other 
knowledge  but  ignorance  till  thou  knowest  thyself.  The 
knowledge  of  thyself  is  the  pearl  of  great  price  ;  it  is  the 
treasure  that  no  thief  can  steal,  and  that  no  rust  can 
corrupt.  The  kingdom  of  heaven,  the  throne  of  grace, 
the  Son  of  God,  the  Holy  Ghost,  are  all  within  thee. 
So  Behmen  preaches  in  season  and  out  of  season.  But, 
you  will  say,  surely  William  Law  knew  all  that  long 
before  he  met  with  Jacob  Behmen.  He  surely  knew 
that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  not  set  ujd  among  the 
stars,  nor  the  throne  of  God  established  and  prepared 
in  the  sun  or  the  moon.  Yes,  in  a  way  he  might  be 
said  to  know  all  that  before  he  met  with  Behmen.  But 
we  have  his  own  solemn  word  for  it  that  it  was  the  poor 
unlettered  German  artisan  who  first  made  him  see  and 
feel  all  that  with  anything  like  its  true  reality  and  power. 
To  borrow  Law's  own  words  about  the  daily  and  life- 
long reading  of  the  Bible,  Behmen  gave  him  not  so  much 
any  new  information,  but  he  took  all  Law's  old  informa- 
tion and  drew  out  of  it  a  new,  a  deep,  a  lasting,  an  ever- 
lasting impression.  This,  then,  was  the  man,  I  can 
scarcely  call  him  the  author,  who  took  up  the  greatest 
English  theologian  and  the  best  practical  writer  of  the 
eighteenth  century  and  made  him  the  greatest  of  our 
English  mystics. 

It  only  remains  to  say  something  about  the  increasingly 
deep  and  noble  books  that  William  Law  wrote  after  he 
had  been  taken  possession  of  by  Jacob  Behmen.  In  the 
year  1737  Law  published  a  book  on  the  Lord's  Supper. 
This  treatise  took  the  form  of  a  reply  to  his  old  opponent. 
Bishop  Hoadly,  who  had  set  forth  a  doctrine  of  the  Supper 
in  which  he  had  taught  the  lowest  and  most  rational- 
istic views  as  to  the  nature  and  grounds  of  that  ordinance. 


228  WILLIAM  LAW 

Law's  doctrine  of  the  Supper  is  a  high  doctrine  in  the  best 
sense  of  that  word.  '  Everything  that  is  great,'  he  sets 
out  with  saying,  '  everything  that  is  adorable  in  the 
redemption  of  mankind,  everything  that  can  dehght, 
comfort,  and  support  the  heart  of  a  Christian  is  found  in 
this  holy  sacrament.'  That  the  Supper  is  not  merely 
a  positive  ordinance,  as  Hoadly  held,  but  that  it  has  its 
ground  and  its  roots  deep  down  in  the  very  nature  of 
things.  Law  argues  out  in  a  profound,  most  convincing, 
and  most  satisfying  way.  He  then  passes  on  to  show  his 
readers  that  there  are  two  essential  parts  in  this  sacra- 
ment, which  relate  respectively  to  the  twofold  character 
and  office  of  our  Redeemer,  first,  as  He  is  the  atonement 
and  satisfaction  for  our  sins,  and,  second,  as  He  is  a  prin- 
ciple of  life  to  us.  All  the  merit,  all  the  dignity,  all  the 
virtue  of  the  Supper,  with  all  the  blessings  and  advan- 
tages derived  to  us  from  it,  and  all  the  pious  dispositions 
with  which  we  are  to  approach  it, — all  this  will  come  to 
him  who  aright  understands  and  receives  this  twofold 
nature  of  the  Supper.  And  starting  from  these  deep 
principles  Law  passes  on  to  expatiate  on  the  blessings  of 
redemption  and  on  our  need  of  it  in  all  his  own  powerful 
and  affecting  way.  The  Demonstration  is  a  book  for 
trained  theologians  rather  than  for  the  body  of  com- 
municants, and,  indeed,  there  arc  not  a  few  passages  in 
it  that  will  not  be  very  intelligible  even  to  trained  theo- 
logians unless  they  have  first  read  something  of  Behmen 
and  have  some  sympathy  with  him.  At  the  same  time. 
Canon  Overton,  Law's  Anglican  biographer,  is  quite 
entitled  to  say  that  Law's  churchmanship  was  only 
modified,  not  lost,  when  he  became  a  mystic  ;  and  that 
on  the  Supper  he  holds  as  distinctly  High  Church  views 
as  he  did  when  he  measured  swords  with  the  same  anta- 
gonist twenty  years  before.     For  myself  I  may  say  that 


WILLIAM  LAW  229 

the  two  best  books  by  far  I  have  ever  read  on  the  Lord's 
Supper  are  that  of  our  own  Calvinistic  and  Presbyterian 
Robert  Bruee  and  that  of  the  Anghcan  and  Behmenite 
Wilham  Law, 

Our  industrious  author's  next  piece  was  a  shilling 
tract  entitled  The  Ground  and  Reason  of  Christian  Regeyier- 
ation.  This  fine  treatise  is  steeped  throughout  in  Law's 
new  mysticism,  and  if  he  does  not  transgress  the  Church 
Catechism  and  the  Baptismal  Service  in  his  exposition 
and  argument,  it  is  because  he  rises  far  above  both  and 
expatiates  in  a  region  clear  of  every  ecclesiastical  creed 
that  has  ever  been  laid  down.  The  super-confessional 
clement,  as  Martenscn  calls  it,  that  was  so  conspicuous 
in  Bchmen  the  orthodox  Lutheran,  comes  out  in  this  and 
in  all  the  subsequent  works  of  Law  the  equally  orthodox 
Anglican.  The  Christian  Regeneration  is  a  delightful 
piece,  and  I  do  not  wonder  that  my  copy  of  this  tract 
belongs  to  the  seventh  edition. 

We  owe  Law's  next  work  to  the  publication  of  Dr. 
Trai^p's  Four  Sermons  on  the  Sin,  Folly,  and  Danger  of 
being  Righteous  Overmuch.  I  have  ill  succeeded  in 
setting  William  Law  before  you  if  you  cannot  imagine 
for  yourselves  something  of  the  power,  solemnity,  and 
pathos  of  his  Serious  Ansiver  to  such  a  publication  as 
that  of  Dr.  Trapp.  I  must  leave  you  to  imagine  what 
that  book  is  of  which  Mr.  Tyerman,  the  biographer  of 
Wesley,  says  that  it  is  '  as  grand  a  piece  of  writing  as  can 
be  found  in  the  English  language.'  Only,  to  assist  your 
imagination  I  shall  let  you  hear  in  one  or  two  sentences 
how  Law  begins  his  answer  to  Trapp  and  how  he  ends  it. 
'  Might  I  follow  the  bent  of  my  own  mind,'  he  begins, 
'  rny  pen,  such  as  it  is,  should  be  wholly  employed  in 
setting  forth  the  infinite  love  of  God  to  mankind  in  Christ 
Jesus,  and  in  endeavouring  to  draw  all  men  to  the  belief 


230  WILLIAM  LAW 

and  acknowledgment  of  it.  The  one  great  mercy  of  God, 
which  makes  the  one,  only  happiness  of  all  mankind,  so 
justly  deserves  all  our  thoughts  and  meditations,  so 
highly  enlightens  and  improves  every  mind  that  is  atten- 
tive to  it,  so  removes  all  the  evils  of  this  present  world, 
so  sweetens  every  state  of  life,  and  so  inflames  the  heart 
with  the  love  of  every  divine  and  human  virtue,  that  he 
is  no  small  loser  whose  mind  is  either  by  writing  or  reading 
detained  from  the  view  and  contemplation  of  it.'  And 
then,  after  ninety  pages  of  such  serious  matter  as  you  can 
imagine,  he  closes  thus  :  '  I  desire  no  authority  for  what 
I  have  written  but  the  gospel,  else  I  could  soon  show  that 
everything  in  my  books  that  offends  the  doctor  is  again 
and  again  to  be  found  not  only  in  Thomas  k  Kempis  and 
Jeremy  Taylor,  but  in  the  writings  of  the  most  eminent 
saints  through  all  ages  of  the  church.' 

I  must  also  leave  untouched  his  next  book,  which  has 
this  bold  and  elaborate  title-page,  An  Appeal  to  all  that 
doubt  or  disbelieve  the  Truths  of  the  Gospel,  whether  they  be 
Deists,  Arians,  Socinians,  or  Nominal  Christians,  in  which 
the  true  Grounds  and  Reasons  of  tlie  whole  Christian  Faith 
are  plainly  and  fully  Demonstrated.  The  Appeal  is  the 
most  original  and  the  most  complete  of  all  Law's  later 
works.  You  may  think  that  Law  is  very  bold  on  his 
title-page.  And  so  he  is.  But  by  universal  consent  he 
fully  performs  all  that  he  promises.  All  through  the 
Appeal  its  author  continually  acknowledges  that  he  is 
ploughing  with  Jacob  Behmen's  heifer ;  but,  all  the 
more,  because  of  that,  it  must  be  proclaimed  that  the 
field  that  Law  so  ploughs  is  all  his  own,  and  that  the 
furrows  he  draws  in  it  have  a  depth,  an  order,  and  a  beauty 
all  his  own  also.  I  have  no  means  of  knowing  what 
effect  the  Appeal  had  on  the  Deists,  Arians,  Socinians, 
and  Nominal  Christians  of  Law's  day,  but  speaking  for 


WILLIAM  LAW  231 

myself  I  can  answer  for  the  effect  for  good  it  has  had  on 
one  nominal  Christian  at  least  in  our  day.  It  was  about 
the  Appeal  that  Samuel  Johnson,  impransus,  wrote  to 
Miss  Boothby,  '  I  return  you  Law,  which,  however,  I 
entreat  you  to  give  me.' 

We  come  now  to  two  truly  golden  books,  The  Spirit  of 
Prayer  and  its  companion  volume,  The  Spirit  of  Love. 
Christopher  Walton  does  not  exaggerate  one  iota  when  he 
says  that  Law's  readers  will  rise  up  from  those  books 
saying,  These  are  the  two  best  books  in  the  world  ! 
The  intellectual  and  experimental  range  of  The  Spirit  of 
Prayer  and  The  Spirit  of  Love  is  much  more  extended  and 
profound  than  is  the  range  of  what  is  popularly  known  as 
orthodox  and  evangelical  doctrine.  Law  does  not  write 
here — indeed,  he  never  writes,  though  he  always  says  he 
does — for  the  unlettered  believer.  The  abler  and  the 
better  informed  the  mind,  and  the  more  exercised  in  the 
divine  life  the  heart  that  any  reader  brings  to  those  two 
treatises,  the  more  good  will  he  get  from  them,  and  the 
more  all  his  after-life  will  he  value  them.  The  dialogues 
which  constitute  so  much  of  both  those  books  are  to  my 
taste  productions  of  a  nothing  less  than  a  Platonic  depth 
and  beauty.  I  have  laid  down  those  books  again  and 
again  saying  with  Walton  :  In  their  way,  and  on  their 
subjects,  show  me  another  two  books  like  those  in  all  the 
world  !  And,  if  only  to  show  you  that  Walton  and  I  are 
not  alone  in  our  exquisite  estimate  of  lite  Spirit  of  Prayer, 
just  listen  to  what  the  editor  of  the  Glasgow  edition  says 
about  it.  '  For  myself,'  he  says,  '  I  cannot  extol  this 
book  too  highly.  I  think  it  ought  to  be  printed  in 
diamonds.  Nor  am  I  a  wild  enthusiast  in  saying  this. 
I  have  had  forty  years'  intimate  acquaintance  with  this 
book.  I  have  also  read  all  known  spiritual  writers  in 
the  world  with  much  general  satisfaction.     But  after  all 


232  WILLIAM  LAW 

that  I  turn  to  William  Law's  Spirit  of  Prayer,  and  con- 
clude that  it  stands  far  above  them  all.'  Sir  James 
Mackintosh  has  adduced  the  memorable  instances  of 
Cicero  and  Milton  and  Dryden  and  Burke  in  support  of 
his  idea  that  there  is  some  natural  tendency  in  the  fire  of 
genius  to  burn  more  brightly  in  the  evening  than  in  the 
morning  of  human  life.  And  this  was  signally  the  case 
with  William  Law.  His  seraphic  genius  literally  blazed 
up  to  heaven  in  the  evening  of  his  holy  life  till  w^e  cannot 
take  up  The  Spirit  of  Prayer  or  The  Spirit  of  Love  into  our 
hands  without  feeling  that  we  are  in  the  presence  of  a 
man  whose  heart  was  an  absolute  altar-fire.  '  The  first 
part  of  The  Spirit  of  Prayer  you  read  to  me,'  says  Rusticus 
in  the  dialogue,  '  more  than  three  or  four  times,  and  that 
is  the  reason  why  I  am  in  no  state  of  eagerness  after  a 
second  part.  I  have  found  in  the  first  part  all  that  I 
need  to  know  of  God,  of  Christ,  of  myself,  of  heaven,  of 
hell,  of  sin,  of  grace,  of  death,  and  of  salvation.  I  have 
found  that  all  these  things  have  their  being,  their  life, 
and  their  working  in  my  own  heart.  That  God  is  always 
in  me  :  that  Christ  is  always  in  me  :  that  He  is  the 
inward  light  and  life  of  my  soul,  a  bread  from  heaven 
which  I  may  always  eat,  a  water  of  eternal  life  springing 
up  in  my  soul  of  which  I  may  always  drink.  O  my 
friend,  these  truths  have  opened  up  a  new  life  in  my 
soul.  I  am  brought  home  to  myself  :  the  veil  is  taken 
off  my  heart.  I  have  found  my  God.  I  know  now  that 
His  dwelling-place.  His  kingdom,  is  within  me.  My 
eyes,  my  ears,  my  thoughts  are  all  now  turned  inwards 
because  all  that  God  and  Christ  and  grace  are  doing  for 
me,  and  all  that  the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh  are 
working  against  me,  are  only  to  be  known  and  found 
there.  What  need,  then,  of  so  much  news  from  abroad 
since  all  that  concerns  either  life  or  death  are  all  transact- 


WILLIAM  LAW  233 

ing  and  are  all  at  work  within  me  ?  I  now  know  to  what 
it  is  that  I  am  daily  to  die,  and  to  what  it  is  that  I  am 
daily  to  live,  and,  therefore,  I  look  upon  every  day  as 
lost  that  does  not  help  forward  both  this  death  and  this 
life  in  me.  I  have  not  yet  half  done  what  the  first  part 
of  Tlie  Spirit  of  Prayer  directs  me  to  do,  and  therefore 
have  but  little  occasion  to  call  out  for  a  second.' 

The  third  part  of  The  Spirit  of  Prayer  was  intended  by 
Law  to  be  an  introduction  to  a  new  edition  of  Behmen's 
works,  for  which  Law  had  now  for  a  long  time  been 
preparing  himself.  '  I  tavight  myself  the  High  Dutch 
language  on  purpose  that  I  might  know  the  original 
words  of  the  blessed  Jacob,  and  if  it  please  God  that 
I  undertake  this  work,  I  shall  only  attempt  to  make 
J.  B.  speak  as  he  would  have  spoken  had  he  written  in 
English.  Also,  by  prefaces  and  introductions  and  notes 
to  prepare  and  direct  the  reader  to  the  true  use  of  these 
writings.'  But  Law  did  not  live  to  carry  out  this 
cherished  design.  And  thus  it  is  that  the  four-volume 
quarto  edition  of  Behmen  which  we  possess,  and  which  is 
often  advertised  and  referred  to  as  Law's  translation, 
is  not  Law's  at  all.  It  is  only  a  reprint  of  an  old  edition 
which  was  first  published  during  the  time  of  the  Common- 
wealth, with  some  allegorical  plates  added  which  Law's 
executors  found  among  his  papers,  and  which  were 
originally  from  the  pencil  of  Freher,  Behmen's  German 
editor.  What  a  treasure  we  have  thus  lost  by  the  death 
of  Law  we  only  too  well  see  as  we  are  carried  through 
The  Way  to  Divine  Knowledge.  The  four  friends  are  met 
again,  and  Humanus,  the  Deist,  who  has  been  silent  till 
now,  opens  the  conversation.  He  is  frank  to  confess  that 
the  conversation  to  which  he  has  been  privileged  to  listen 
has  completely  overcome  him.  '  I  must  yield,'  he  says  ; 
'  you  have  taken  from  me  all  power  of  cavilling  and 


234  WILLIAM  LAW 

disputing.  What  I  have  read  and  heard  glows  in  my 
soul  like  a  fire,  like  a  hunger  which  nothing  can  satisfy 
but  a  further  view  of  those  great  truths  which  I  this 
day  expect  from  your  opening  to  us  the  mysteries  of 
heaven  revealed  to  that  wonderful  man,  Jacob  Behmen.' 
And  then  Theophilus,  who  is  just  Law  himself,  takes  the 
lead  in  the  dialogue,  and  the  result  is,  as  I  have  said, 
such  an  exposition  of  Behmen's  doctrines  and  services 
as  would  have  proved  a  worthy  introduction  to  an 
adequate  edition  of  the  Teutonic  philosopher.  As  it  is, 
the  English  reader  must  content  himself  with  such 
expositions  of  Behmen  as  are  scattered  up  and  down 
Law's  later  works  ;  and,  in  spite  of  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen's 
flout  at  Christopher  Walton,  let  no  student  of  Behmen 
and  Law  neglect  that  indefatigable  and  able,  if  some- 
what erratic  and  unconventional  author,  or,  rather, 
author's  collector  and  referee.  One  reader  at  any  rate 
has  neither  been  bewildered  nor  even  wearied,  as  Mr. 
Stephen  said  he  would  be,  among  the  theosophical 
quagmires  and  gigantic  footnotes  of  Walton.  I  have 
read  Walton's  enormous  book  over  and  over  again  with 
delight,  with  benefit,  and  with  gratitude. 

Law's  truly  heavenly  treatise  The  Spirit  of  Love  is, 
itself,  besides  all  else,  a  perfect  triumph  of  that  same 
divine  spirit.  For  that  fine  work  was  called  forth  by 
the  persistent  objections  that  both  his  friends  and  his 
enemies  had  made  to  many  things  in  his  later  writings. 
And  while  gathering  up  into  an  ordered  and  systematic 
whole  all  the  best  and  most  characteristic  things  in  his 
later  books,  Law  gives  them  over  again  here  with  a 
fulness  and  a  finish  that  make  The  Spirit  of  Love  the 
copestone  and  crown  of  all  his  compositions.  And, 
better  than  all  that,  he  illustrates  and  adorns  that 
most  delightful  book  with  a  wisdom  and  a  meekness, 


WILLIAM  LAW  235 

and  Avith  a  display  of  that  all-embracing  love  of  which 
William  Law  was,  of  all  our  modern  men,  surely  the 
chosen  apostle.  While  the  most  humble  and  simply 
believing  and  the  least  rationalistic  of  theologians,  at 
the  same  time,  Law  sets  out  in  The  Spirit  of  Love  to  give 
a  profound  and  complete  rationale  of  the  origin  and  the 
nature  of  sin,  the  origin  and  the  nature  of  the  love  and  the 
wrath  of  God,  the  origin  and  the  nature  of  the  atoning 
death  of  our  Lord,  and  so  on.  Like  his  master  Jacob 
Behmen,  Law  moves  deep  down  among  the  primitive 
and  unfrequented  roots  of  things.  He  sees  the  unseen 
roots  of  things  with  his  own  eyes,  and  he  tells  what  he 
sees  in  his  own  words,  till  it  may  safely  be  said  that  no 
man  of  a  sufficiently  open  and  sufficiently  serious  mind 
can  read  Law  on  these  awful  and  unfathomable  subjects 
without  having  his  seriousness  immensely  deepened  and 
his  love  to  God  and  man  for  all  his  days  fed  to  a  seraphic 
flame.  The  second  dialogue  of  The  Sjnrit  of  Love  has 
been  reprinted  by  the  late  Bishop  Ewing  in  his  Present- 
Day  Prayers  on  Theology ;  but,  even  with  the  Bishop's 
excellent  preface,  the  reader  is  plunged  into  the  very 
depths  of  Law's  doctrines  without  the  needful  discipline 
of  mind  and  heart  that  the  consecutive  and  cumula- 
tive reading  of  his  peculiarly  germinant  and  organic 
books  can  alone  give  to  the  student.  '  Before  you 
leave  me,'  says  Thcophilus,  '  I  beg  one  more  conversation 
to  be  on  the  practical  part  of  the  spirit  of  love  ;  that  so 
doctrine  and  practice,  hearing  and  doing,  may  go  hand  in 
hand.'  I  wish  Bishop  Ewing,  or  some  such  student  of 
Law,  had  reprinted  for  the  Christian  public  the  third 
and  practical  part  of  Law's  great  work. 

Law's  last  book,  which  he  did  not  live  to  correct  for 
the  press,  is  entitled.  An  Humble,  Earnest  and  Affectionate 
Address  to  the  Clergy.     Law  had  never  been  in  active 


236  WILLIAM  LAW 

pulpit  and  parish  work  himself  ;  he  held  by  his  nonjuring 
principles  to  the  end  ;  but  his  whole  heart  was  in  the 
ministry,  as  a  thousand  passages  scattered  up  and  down 
his  writings  sufRciently  show  us.  And,  accordingly, 
in  the  Humble  Address  Law  sums  up  all  the  authorship 
of  his  long  and  fruitful  life,  and  brings  it  all  to  bear  with 
an  overpowering  impressiveness  on  the  younger  clergy 
of  the  Church  of  England.  He  had  often  had  the 
younger  clergy  in  his  eye  as  he  composed  his  former 
books,  but  this  now  is  his  dying  charge  to  them.  And 
it  is  very  characteristic  of  Law  that  he  does  not  set  out 
to  address  his  younger  brethren  on  any  of  their  properly 
professional  duties.  There  is  not  one  word  about  books, 
though  he  had  been  a  lifelong  student  himself.  There 
is  not  a  single  word  about  how  to  compose  or  deliver  a 
sermon.  Law  leaves  all  that  to  his  readers  to  find  out  for 
themselves.  And  he  keeps  himself  and  them  to  the  end 
of  his  overpowering  address  to  the  purest  substance  and 
the  innermost  essence  of  a  minister's  work.  In  a  letter, 
dated  Philadelphia,  1767,  I  find  the  following  passage  : 
'  Mr.  Law's  Address  to  the  Clergy  was  the  first  of  his  books 
that  fell  into  my  hands.  I  took  it  up  with  much  prejudice 
in  my  mind  against  its  author,  whom  I  had  always  heard 
spoken  of  as  an  enthusiast.  But  I  had  not  read  half  the 
pamphlet  before  my  heart  was  visited  with  such  sensa- 
tions as  I  had  never  felt  before.  My  mind,  which  had 
hitherto  been  unsettled,  dark,  doubting,  and  yet  anxious 
to  find  the  truth,  became  calm,  serene,  and  sweetly 
composed.  I  had  found  my  God.  I  had  found  my 
Redeemer.  I  had  found  the  origin  and  source  of  my 
disorder,  and  with  that  the  only  means  of  consolation 
and  of  a  perfect  cure.'  But  by  the  time  that  American 
letter  arrived  in  England,  William  Law  had  been  taken 
to  that  world  of  light  and  love  where  neither  the  praise 
nor  the  blame  of  this  world  could  follow  him. 


WILLIAM  LAW  237 

It  was  when  Law  was  engaged  on  some  out-of-doors 
business  connected  with  the  King's  Chffe  charity  schools 
that  he  took  the  severe  cold  that  ended  in  his  death. 
Till  well  beyond  his  threescore  years  and  ten  Law  had 
enjoyed  splendid  health.  He  started  on  life  with  a 
sound  constitution,  and  all  his  days  he  took  good  care  of 
it.  We  shall  not  forget  his  early  hours,  his  temperate 
and  almost  ascetical  habits,  his  regularity  in  study  and 
devotion  and  exercise,  and  the  serenity  of  his  noble  mind 
continually  occupied  even  to  ecstasy  with  the  most 
sublime  objects  of  human  contemplation.  Law's  death- 
bed was  one  long  rapture.  He  fell  asleep  at  that  morning 
hour  at  which  for  a  lifetime  he  had  been  wont  to  make 
his  study  vocal  with  his  songs  of  thanksgiving  for  an- 
other new  day.  And  his  ruling  passion  was  strong  enough 
even  in  death  to  raise  him  up  in  his  bed  while  he  sang 
with  his  last  breath  the  angels'  song  of  peace  and  good- 
will on  the  plains  of  Bethlehem.  The  last  words  that 
were  heard  from  his  lips  were  something  like  these  : 
'  Take  away  the  filthy  garments  from  him,  and  clothe 
him  with  a  change  of  raiment.'  And  these  :  '  I  feel 
within  me  a  consuming  fire  of  heavenly  love  which  has 
burned  up  in  my  soul  everything  that  was  contrary  to 
itself  and  transformed  me  inwardly  into  its  own  nature.' 
And  thus,  like  a  saint  already  satisfied  with  the  Divine 
likeness,  William  Law  breathed  his  last  on  the  morning 
of  the  9th  of  April  1761. 


BISHOP   BUTLER 

Joseph  Butler  had  for  his  contemporaries  John  Locke, 
Isaac  Newton,  George  Berkeley,  WiUiam  Law,  Alexander 
Pope,  John  Wesley,  Jonathan  Edwards,  Samuel  Johnson, 
and  many  other  well-known  men.  The  Principia  was 
published  in  1687,  the  Essay  Concerning  Human  Under- 
standing in  1690,  the  Rolls  Sermons  in  1726,  the  Serious 
Call  in  1729,  the  Essay  on  Man  in  1733,  the  Alciphron 
in  1733,  the  Analogy  in  1736,  the  Religious  Affections 
in  1746,  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  in  1754,  the  Dictionary 
in  1755,  and  the  Lives  of  the  Poets  in  1781.  If  Butler's 
lifetime  was  not  the  very  greatest  age  of  English  literature 
and  philosophy  and  religion,  it  was  still  a  great  age, 
when  these  were  the  men  whose  names  were  in  every 
mouth,  and  when  these  were  the  books  that  were  in 
every  reader's  hand. 

Butler  quite  excelled  himself  the  very  first  time  he  put 
pen  to  paper.  He  never  wrote  anything  again  so  astonish- 
ingly acute  as  was  the  short  series  of  anonymous  letters 
he  addressed  to  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke  on  certain  philo- 
sophical and  theological  positions  of  that  eminent  author. 
Butler  tells  us  that  the  Being  and  the  Nature  of  God 
had  been  his  incessant  study  ever  since  he  began  to  think 
at  all.  And  that  he  had  thought  to  some  purpose  on 
that  supreme  subject  of  thought,  those  able  letters  of 
his  are  the  sufficient  evidence.  '  A  correspondence,' 
says  Professor  Eraser  in  his  Life  of  Berkeley,  '  unmatched 

239 


240  BISHOP  BUTLER 

in  its  kind  in  English  philosophical  literature.'  But  it 
is  not  the  acuteness  of  their  dialectic,  nor  even  the 
depth  of  their  thought,  that  gives  those  early  letters  of 
Butler  their  lasting  interest  to  us.  It  is  much  more  the 
rare  qualities  of  heart  and  character  that  shine  out  of 
every  page  of  those  modest  letters  that  make  Butler's 
admirers  so  to  cherish  his  early  correspondence  with 
Clarke. 

Butler  has  no  biography.  Butler's  books  are  his 
whole  biography.  What  Jowett  so  well  saj^s  of  Plato's 
writings  may  also  be  said  of  Butler's  :  '  The  progress 
of  his  writings  is  the  history  of  his  life.  We  have  no  other 
authentic  life  of  him.  His  writings  are  the  true  self  of 
the  philosopher,  stripped  of  the  accidents  of  time  and 
place.'  Butler's  schoolboy  letters  to  Clarke  are  the  best 
biography  of  his  boyhood  and  youth,  and  his  Rolls 
Sermons  and  his  Analogy  are  the  sum  and  substance  of 
all  his  after  days.  The  Preface  to  the  second  edition  of 
his  Rolls  Sermons  is,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  the  most 
self-revealing  and  most  characteristic  piece  of  writing 
that  ever  proceeded  from  Butler's  pen.  '  The  Preface 
to  the  Sermons,''  says  Maurice,  '  is  the  most  important 
of  all  the  documents  we  possess  for  the  understanding  of 
Butler's  character.'  The  famous  Preface  is  full,  I  will 
not  say  of  contempt,  but  of  a  certain  saddened  scorn  at 
the  generality  of  the  readers  of  his  day.  Those  are 
classical  passages  in  which  he  takes  up  the  defence  of  his 
much-assailed  manner  of  writing  in  his  Rolls  Sermons. 
Butler's  really  noble  style  is  never  seen  to  greater  advan- 
tage than  just  in  those  two  or  three  pages  in  which  he 
defends  his  Rolls  Sermons.  All  those  men  among  our- 
selves who  w^ould  write  seriously,  as  well  as  all  those 
who  would  read  seriously,  should  lay  to  heart  those 
weighty    and    solemnising   pages    of    this    great    writer. 


BISHOP  BUTLER  241 

And  then,  after  his  severe  chastisement  of  the  indolent 
and  incapable  readers  of  his  day,  Butler  passes  on  to 
assist  his  really  serious-minded  readers  by  preparing 
for  them  a  most  masterly  introduction  to  the  fifteen 
sermons.  Then  the  famous  Preface  comes  to  a  close 
with  this  valuable  autobiographic  paragraph  :  '  It  may 
be  proper  to  advertise  the  reader  that  he  is  not  to  look 
for  any  particular  reason  for  the  choice  of  the  greatest 
part  of  these  discourses ;  their  being  taken  from 
amongst  many  others  preached  in  the  same  place, 
through  a  course  of  eight  years,  being  in  a  great  measure 
accidental.  Neither  is  he  to  expect  any  other  connection 
between  them  than  that  uniformity  of  thought  and 
design  which  will  always  be  found  in  the  writings  of  the 
same  person  when  he  writes  with  simplicity  and  in  earnest.' 
With  these  simjile  and  earnest  words  Butler  winds  up 
a  piece  of  composition  so  characteristic  of  him,  that  we 
would  not  have  wanted  it  for  anything.  Butler  writes 
by  far  his  best,  so  far  as  style  is  concerned,  when  he  is 
smarting  under  a  sense  of  injury.  His  resentment  makes 
him  strike  with  his  pen  in  this  Preface  of  his  as  with  a 
sword.  In  these  powerful  pages  Butler  turns  and 
charges  home  on  his  idle-minded  and  fault-finding 
readers  in  a  way  that  still  reaches  to  many  readers  among 
ourselves.  We  all  reel  under  Butler's  blows  as  we  read 
his  retaliatory  Preface  to  his  Rolls  Sermons. 

The  three  epoch-making  sermons  on  Human  Nature 
commence  with  a  characteristically  conducted  examina- 
tion as  to  what  human  nature  really  is  ;  of  what  several 
parts  it  is  composed,  and  how  those  several  parts  are  all 
constituted  and  constructed  into  human  nature  as  we 
possess  it  and  know  it.  And  then  from  that,  Butler 
proceeds  to  ask  what  it  is  for  a  man  to  '  live  according  to 

Q. 


242  BISHOP  BUTLER 

his  nature,'  as  the  Stoics  always  insisted  that  every  man 
ought  to  hve.  Christian  bishop  as  Butler  was,  it  was 
true  of  him  what  Maurice  says  about  Jonathan  Edwards  : 
'  He  was  not  afraid  to  agree  with  the  Stoics  when  they 
were  right.'  Appropriating,  therefore,  the  very  words 
of  those  '  ancient  moralists,'  as  he  always  calls  them, 
Butler  proceeds  to  explain  and  to  enforce  their  teaching 
by  showing  that  human  nature  is  made  up  of  its  several 
appetites,  passions,  affections  and  emotions,  and  that 
conscience  sits  as  a  sovereign  and  a  judge  over  all  these 
her  subjects.  And  it  is  just  in  his  discovery  and  exposi- 
tion of  this  complex  constitution  of  human  nature  ;  and 
especially  it  is  in  his  discovery  and  vindication  of  the 
supremacy  of  conscience,  that  Butler's  services  to  philo- 
sophy, and  to  morals,  and  to  religion,  are  so  original  and 
so  immense.  '  In  his  three  sermons  on  Human  Nature,' 
says  Dr.  Eagar,  '  Butler  dropped  a  plummet  into  depths 
before  unsounded.'  '  It  may  be  stated,  once  for  all,' 
says  Carmichael  in  his  admirably  annotated  edition  of 
the  Rolls  Sermons,  '  that  to  Butler  belongs  the  merit  of 
having  first,  as  a  scientific  moralist,  made  the  supremacy 
of  conscience  the  subject  of  distinct  and  reflex  cogni- 
tion.' And  then,  after  characterising  the  ethical  stand- 
ards of  Plato  and  Aristotle  and  Bentham  and  Hobbes, 
Carmichael  goes  on  to  say,  '  Butler  would  simply  direct 
the  enquirer  to  reverence  his  conscience,  to  respect  its 
dictates,  and  to  bring  all  his  conduct  before  it  as  before 
a  faculty  from  which  there  can  be  no  appeal  but  to 
itself  :  that  is  to  say,  from  its  unillumined  to  its  en- 
lightened decision,  to  seek  for  that  enlightenment,  to 
wish  for  it,  and  in  the  consciousness  of  his  countless 
secret  faults  and  his  unnumbered  shortcomings,  to  pray 
for  it,  and  to  bow  down,  an  humble,  contrite  penitent, 
before  that  God  in  whose  sight  even  the  heavens  are  not 
clean.' 


BISHOP  BUTLER  243 

The  law  of  conscience  in  the  moral  world  is  like  nothing 
so  much  as  the  law  of  gravitation  in  the  material  world. 
And  both  those  foundation  laws  of  Almighty  God  were 
for  the  first  time  brought  to  light  in  the  same  generation  : 
the  one  by  Newton  and  the  other  by  Butler.  Newton 
made  the  most  magnificent  and  the  most  fruitful  of  all 
physical  discoveries,  that  every  atom  of  matter  in  the 
material  universe  exercises  a  measurable  influence  on 
every  other  atom  ;  and  that  this  law,  which  he  named 
the  law  of  gravitation,  is  absolutely  universal  and 
invariable  in  its  operation.  The  smallest  atom  of  red- 
hot  lava  at  the  heart  of  our  own  earth  throws  out  an 
influence  of  attraction  that  measurably  affects  the 
remotest  speck  of  star-dust  on  the  outermost  border  of 
the  unfathomable  universe.  And  it  was  while  the 
minds  of  men  were  so  overawed  and  exalted  with 
Newton's  astounding  discovery  and  with  all  that 
followed  upon  it,  that  Butler  made  his  parallel  discovery 
and  demonstration  of  the  law  of  conscience  in  the  moral 
world.  This  law,  namely,  that  there  is  not  an  act  that 
any  man  performs,  nor  a  word  that  any  man  speaks, 
nor  a  thought  in  any  man's  mind,  nor  an  affection  in 
any  man's  heart,  that  is  not  all  placed  under  the  sceptre 
of  his  conscience.  It  is  true,  the  nature  of  man  in  the 
present  life  is  such,  that  the  law  of  conscience  suffers 
endless  perturbations  and  suspensions,  and  sometimes 
what  would  seem  to  be  reversals  ;  but  so  does  the  law 
of  gravitation.  And  just  as  our  ever- widening  know- 
ledge has  proved  the  absolute  universality  and  in- 
violability of  NcAvton's  law,  so  will  it  be  with  Butler's 
law.  Wait,  says  Butler,  till  you  enter  on  the  completing 
dispensation  of  things,  and  you  will  find  that  conscience 
has  only  handed  over  all  her  seeming  defeats  and  reversals 
to  the  judgment  and  to  the  power  of  One  who  will  sooner 


244  BISHOP  BUTLER 

see  heaven  and  earth  perish  than  that  one  jot  or  title 
of  His  moral  law  shall  be  left  unvindicated  and  un- 
executed. Both  the  law  of  gravitation  and  the  law  of 
conscience  had  been  laid  by  Almighty  God  on  nature 
and  on  man  from  the  beginning.  But  those  two  univer- 
sally binding  laws  of  God  were  never  fully  discovered 
nor  finally  demonstrated  to  the  children  of  men  till 
Newton  and  Butler  were  raised  up  to  discover  them  and 
to  demonstrate  them.  And  that  immense  service,  so 
far  as  the  law  of  conscience  is  concerned,  is  performed  by 
Butler  in  his  three  epoch-making  sermons  on  Human 
Nature.  The  noble  teaching  of  those  three  sermons 
has  been  so  absorbed  and  assimilated  into  our  best 
literature  that  it  is  not  very  easy  for  us  to  go  back  to 
that  age  when  Butler's  doctrine  of  conscience  could  be 
called  a  new  discovery,  as  Sir  James  Mackintosh  so 
emphatically  calls  it.  Dr.  Newman,  especially,  has 
made  Butler's  teaching  on  the  subject  of  conscience 
such  a  theme  of  his  in  a  multitude  of  magnificent  passages, 
that  the  supremacy,  and  the  authority,  and  the  anticipa- 
tions, and  the  presages,  of  conscience  are  all  familiar 
ideas  to  us,  as  well  as  daily  experiences.  Newman  took 
up  his  great  master's  teaching  on  conscience,  and  brought 
to  that  teaching  all  his  own  so  captivating  English  style, 
and  all  his  own  so  unequalled  homiletical  genius,  in  both 
of  which  gifts  Butler  was,  comparatively  speaking,  so 
deficient.  It  is  true  that  all  the  best  literature,  both 
ancient  and  modern,  has  always  been  full  of  the  omni- 
presence, and  the  authority,  and  the  presages,  of  con- 
science. But  it  was  Butler  who  first  established  all  that 
on  a  scientific  and  an  unassailable  basis  ;  till  it  almost 
seems  as  if  very  conscience  herself  holds  the  pen  and 
mounts  the  pulpit  in  these  three  immortal  sermons  upon 
herself. 


BISHOP  BUTLER  245 

Robert  Hall  on  one  occasion  gave  a  young  preacher 
a  most  impressive  advice  as  to  his  frequently  taking  up 
particular  parts  of  conduct  and  character  in  his  sermons. 
John  Foster  also,  both  by  precept  and  example,  often 
sets  this  duty  before  his  ministerial  readers.  Butler 
was  still  but  a  young  preacher  when  he  delivered  his 
extraordinarily  original  and  pungent  sermon  on  this 
particular  part  of  conduct  and  character — the  govern- 
ment of  the  tongue.  Butler  was  still  a  young  man,  but 
there  is  a  whole  lifetime  of  observation  and  insight,  I 
might  almost  say  of  suffering  and  exasperation,  in  that 
single  sermon.  No  one  ever  reads  that  sermon,  and  of 
those  who  do  read  it,  not  one  in  ten  pays  any  attention 
to  it  so  as  to  apply  it  to  himself.  And  thus  the  wide- 
spread mischief  and  misery  go  on,  just  as  if  that  sermon 
had  never  been  written.  '  The  fault  referred  to,  and  the 
disposition  supposed,'  says  the  preacher,  '  is  not  evil- 
speaking  from  malice,  nor  lying,  nor  bearing  false  witness 
for  selfish  ends.  The  thing  here  supposed  is  talkative- 
ness.' Nothing  seems  to  have  worn  out  Butler  like  the 
incessant  talking  of  the  people  round  about  him.  After 
his  death  his  enemies  said  that  he  had  died  a  Papist. 
But  that  was  only  another  instance  of  their  irrepressible 
talkativeness.  Butler  did  not  die  a  Papist,  but  he 
would  be  tempted  sometimes  to  think  of  entering  the 
Carthusian  Order  so  as  to  escape  for  ever  from  the 
tongues  of  continually  talking  men.  Butler  rode  a  little 
black  pony,  and  he  always  rode  it  as  fast  as  it  could 
carry  him — so  his  old  parishioners  used  to  tell.  He 
rode  fast,  sometimes,  to  escape  the  crowds  of  beggars 
who  continually  infested  him,  and  sometimes,  as  we  are 
led  to  think,  to  escape  the  tongues  of  men  who  so  con- 
tinually tormented  him.  It  has  been  said  that  there  is 
a  certain  tinge  of  remorse  in  the  style  of  Tacitus.     And 


246  BISHOP  BUTLER 

I  never  read  Butler's  sermon  on  the  misgovernment  of 
the  tongue  without  detecting  in  that  sermon  Butler's 
own  bitter  remorse  for  his  misgovernment  of  his  own 
tongue.  No  man  ever  speaks  with  such  an  intense 
bitterness  as  I  taste  in  that  sermon  except  when  he 
speaks  in  remorse,  and  in  self-resentment,  and,  as  Butler 
says,  with  real  self-dislike  toward  himself.  And  then, 
lest  some  of  his  superficial  readers  should  think  that  he 
is  making  far  too  much  of  a  small  matter,  he  has  this 
observation,  that  '  the  greatest  evils  in  life  have  had 
their  rise  from  somewhat  which  was  thought  of  too  little 
importance  to  be  attended  to.'  '  There  is,  nor  can  be,' 
says  Mr.  Gladstone,  '  no  superannuation  in  this  sermon.' 
No  :  not  so  long  as  men  and  women  are  ruining  them- 
selves every  day  by  talking  continually,  and  by  straining 
continually,  as  Butler  has  it,  '  to  engage  your  attention  : 
to  take  you  up  wholly  for  the  present  time  :  what  reflec- 
tions will  be  made  afterwards  is  in  truth  the  least  of  their 
thoughts,'  The  son  of  Sirach  is  a  classical  author  with 
Butler  :  '  Honour  and  shame  is  in  talk.  A  wise  man 
will  hold  his  tongue  till  he  sees  opportunity ;  but  a 
babbler  and  a  fool  will  regard  no  time.  He  that  useth 
many  words  will  be  abhorred  ;  and  he  that  taketh  to 
himself  authority  therein  shall  be  hated.  The  tongue 
of  a  man  is  his  fall.'  Let  every  man  who  has  a  tongue 
to  govern  read  regularly,  once  every  year,  Butler's  bitter 
sermon  on  that  subject,  and  lay  it  to  heart. 

'  Balaam  '  and  '  David  '  are  two  tremendous  sermons. 
'  Good  God,  what  inconsistency  is  here  !  What  fatality 
is  here  !  '  Butler  bursts  out  in  a  way  most  unusual  with 
him.  And  then  he  goes  down  to  the  darkest  bottom  of 
Balaam's  heart,  and  of  his  hearer's  heart,  with  the  two- 
edged  sword  of    the  Spirit  in  his    hand,    till  Butler's 


BISHOP  BUTLER  247 

Balaam  is  one  of  the  most  terrible  pieces  of  conscience- 
searching  invective  in  the  English  language.  And  then, 
David's  self-partiality  and  self-deceit  make  the  tenth 
sermon  a  companion  sermon,  quite  worthy  of  the  seventh 
sermon.  Both  those  sermons  must  be  read  many  times 
over  before  their  tremendous  power  will  be  believed. 
'  I  am  persuaded,'  says  the  preacher,  '  that  a  very  great 
part  of  the  wickedness  of  the  world  is,  one  way  or  other, 
owing  to  the  self-partiality,  self-flattery,  and  self-deceit, 
endeavoured  here  to  be  laid  open  and  explained.  Those 
who  have  taken  notice  that  there  is  really  such  a  thing, 
namely,  plain  falseness  and  insincerity  in  men  with 
regard  to  themselves,  will  readily  see  the  drift  and 
design  of  these  discourses.  And  nothing  that  I  can 
add  will  explain  the  design  of  them  to  him  who  has  not 
beforehand  remarked  at  least  somewhat  of  the  character.' 
At  the  same  time,  '  Viewed  in  the  light  of  the  Gospel,' 
says  Carmichael,  '  this  sermon  is  incomplete.' 

'  On  Resentment '  is  a  most  enlightening  and  memor- 
able sermon.  '  One  point  in  Butler's  account  of  resent- 
ment,' says  Dr.  Whewell,  '  has  been  admired  as  happy 
and  novel.  I  mean  the  distinction  he  draws  between 
anger  and  settled  resentment.'  And  Whewell  sums  up 
Butler's  doctrines  on  these  subjects  in  these  words : 
'  The  distinction  that  Butler  takes  between  sudden 
anger  and  settled  resentment  is  of  this  kind.  Sudden 
anger  does  not  imply  that  we  have  wrong  inflicted  on 
us,  resentment  does.  Sudden  anger  flashes  up  before 
we  have  time  to  reflect,  and  resists  all  violence  and 
harm  :  resentment  glows  with  a  permanent  heat  against 
injury  and  injustice.  Sudden  anger  is  an  instinct 
implanted  for  the  preservation  of  the  individual  :  re- 
sentment is  a  moral  sentiment  given  for  the  repression 


^ 


248  BISHOP  BUTLER 

ol  injustice,  and  the  preservation  of  society.  The 
former,  we  may  add,  belongs  to  animals  as  well  as  to 
men,  the  latter  is  peculiar  to  mankind.'  Let  every 
hot-hearted,  and  every  sullen-hearted,  and  every  spiteful- 
hearted  man  lay  this  sermon  of  Butler's  to  heart,  and  it 
will  be  a  great  assistance  to  him  in  his  deliverance  from 
his  besetting  sin. 

The  sermon  on  the  Forgiveness  of  Injuries  is  full  of 
that  moral  and  intellectual  seed-sowing  which  is  so 
characteristic  of  all  Butler's  best  work,  and  which  has 
made  his  writings  so  singularly  fruitful  to  all  his  readers. 
And  the  same  thing  may  be  said  about  his  two  beautiful 
sermons  on  the  Love  of  our  Neighbour.  It  is  in  the 
second  of  those  two  sermons  that  this  single  seed  is 
dropped  which  has  raised  such  a  harvest  of  thoughtful- 
ness,  and  fellow-feeling,  and  brotherly  love,  in  so  many 
of  Butler's  readers.  This  single  seed,  that  '  we  ourselves 
differ  from  other  men  just  as  much  as  they  differ  from  us.' 
The  two  sermons  are  summed  up  into  this  closing 
prayer  :  '  O  Almighty  God,  inspire  us  with  this  divine 
principle  of  brotherly  love.  Kill  in  us  all  the  seeds  of 
envy  and  ill-will.  And  help  us,  by  cultivating  within 
ourselves  the  love  of  our  neighbour,  to  improve  in  the 
love  of  Thee.  Thou  hast  placed  us  in  various  kindreds, 
friendships,  and  relations,  as  the  school  of  discipline  for 
our  affections.  Help  us,  by  the  due  exercise  of  all  these, 
to  improve  to  perfection,  till  all  partial  affection  be  lost 
in  that  entire  universal  one,  and  Thou,  O  God,  shalt 
be  all  in  all.' 

In  his  two  sermons  on  the  Love  of  God,  Butler  touches 
by  far  his  highest  chord.  There  is  the  very  thrill  of 
David  and  Isaiah  in  those  two  sermons,  if  not  of  Paul  and 


BISHOP  BUTLER  249 

John.  In  the  fourteenth  Essay  of  his  Horce  Sabbaticce, 
Sir  James  Stephen  says  that  the  famous  sermons  on  the 
Love  of  God  are  in  his  judgment  not  only  the  greatest 
of  Butler's  writings,  but  they  are  also  the  first  to  which 
a  person  who  wishes  to  understand  those  writings  as  a 
whole  should  attend.  I  have  preferred  to  take  Butler's 
own  arrangement  of  his  sermons,  and  to  study  them  in 
the  order  in  which  he  has  placed  them  himself.  I  agree 
with  Sir  James  Stephen  that  those  two  sermons  are  the 
greatest  of  Butler's  writings,  and  I  return  to  them 
oftener  than  to  any  other  of  his  writings,  and  always 
with  the  same  result.  So  far  as  they  go  they  are  to  me 
among  the  most  conclusive  and  satisfying  pieces  of 
religious  writing  in  the  English  language,  and  every 
serious  student  ought  to  return  to  those  sermons  till  he 
has  them,  as  we  say,  by  heart.  This  is  the  character- 
istically quiet  way  in  which  Butler  introduces  us  to 
those  enthralling  sermons  :  '  There  must  be  some  move- 
ments of  mind  and  heart  which  correspond  to  the  divine 
perfection.'  It  is  from  these  few  words  that  those 
truly  magnificent  sermons  are  developed  and  elaborated 
and  reasoned  out,  and  that  with  such  depth  and  strength 
and  opulence  of  thought,  and  with  such  masculine 
eloquence  of  style.  In  his  admirably  annotated  edition 
of  the  Rolls  Sermons,  Carmiehael  has  this  introductory 
footnote  to  guide  the  student  through  those  deep 
sermons :  '  Although  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth 
sermons  are  included  under  the  same  head,  the  points  of 
view  are  widely  different.  In  the  thirteenth  sermon 
Butler  treats  of  the  love  of  God  as  an  affection  in  the 
highest  degree  reasonable,  alike  from  the  constitution 
of  man  and  the  character  of  God.  In  the  fourteenth 
sermon  he  considers  the  love  of  God  as  a  principle  which 
is  influenced  in  its  exercise  by  man's  present  condition, 


250  BISHOP  BUTLER 

and  is  to  be  perfected  in  heaven.'  Butler  is  the  least 
scriptural  of  all  our  great  preachers,  but  for  once  he 
closes  and  crowns  those  two  magnificent  sermons  with  a 
long  chain  of  scripture  passages  which  gleam  on  Butler's 
somewhat  sombre  pages  like  a  cluster  of  pearls.  Such 
masterly  sermons  as  these  are,  and  coming  to  such  a 
close,  and  approaching,  as  they  sometimes  do  approach, 
to  the  very  borders  of  becoming  evangelical — all  this 
makes  us  wish  that  Butler  had  gone  on  to  give  himself 
up  wholly  to  apostolical  and  evangelical  theology, 
instead  of  spending  his  great  gifts  on  philosoj^hical 
apologetics,  however  successfully  and  however  fruitfully 
executed.  As  it  is,  those  two  truly  superb  sermons  will 
always  go  with  the  reader  of  Butler  to  lighten  up  his 
path  and  to  warm  his  heart  as  he  toils  on  through  the 
somewhat  unsunned  and  severe  spaces  of  the  Analogy. 

Now,  after  saying  all  that,  it  is  a  strong  thing  to  go 
on  to  say  that  as  far  as  Butler's  sermons  on  our  love  to 
God  are  concerned,  the  Son  of  God  need  never  have 
come  with  His  Father's  message  of  love  to  us,  nor  need 
the  New  Testament  Epistles  ever  have  been  written. 
The  truth  is,  the  very  name  of  Him  in  whom  God's  love 
to  us  has  been  most  fully  manifested,  and  in  whom  our 
love  to  God  is  first  kindled,  is  never  mentioned  by  Butler 
in  these  two  sermons.  Literally,  the  name  of  our  Lord 
occurs  only  once,  and  that  once  is  in  a  quite  incidental 
way,  in  the  whole  of  these  sermons.  Now,  very  far  be 
it  from  me  to  point  that  out  in  order  to  raise  a  prejudice 
against  Butler.  My  sole  object  in  pointing  out  this 
distressing  limitation  and  impoverishment  of  Butler's 
high  argument  is  in  order  to  forewarn  the  student  not 
to  expect  what  Butler's  chosen  and  deliberate  plan  does 
not  promise,  or  indeed  permit.  Butler  has  determined 
to  rest  his  whole  argument  with  us  on  those  deep  and 


BISHOP  BUTLER  251 

primaeval  foundations  which  are  laid  in  the  nature  of 
God,  and  in  the  corresponding  constitution  of  the  mind 
and  heart  of  man.  '  It  cannot  be  denied  ' — they  are 
Butler's  own  words  in  his  first  sermon — '  that  our  being 
God's  creatures,  and  virtue  being  the  natural  law  we 
arc  born  under,  and  the  whole  constitution  of  man  being 
plainly  adapted  to  it,  are  prior  obligations  to  piety  and 
virtue  than  the  consideration  that  God  sent  His  Son 
into  the  world  to  save  it.'  Now,  it  is  among  those 
'  prior  obligations  '  that  Butler's  mind  is  most  at  home, 
and  moves  most  easily.  And  it  is  on  those  '  prior 
obligations  '  that  he  preaches  with  such  incomparable 
power.  Whereas  the  New  Testament,  while  taking  its 
first  stand  on  those  same  '  prior  obligations,'  goes  on  to 
bring  forward  still  stronger  obligations  to  piety  and 
virtue.  The  God  of  redemption  claims  our  love  and 
our  obedience  on  this  supreme  obligation,  that  He  has 
purchased  us  to  Himself  at  a  great  price,  till  we  are  no 
longer  our  own.  Butler  himself  has  taught  us  that  new 
relations  both  demand  and  produce  new  affections  and 
new  duties.  But  in  his  present  sermons  he  has  left  out 
the  most  heart-melting  relations  and  affections  of  all ; 
that  is  to  say,  God's  relations  and  affections  to  us  in 
Jesus  Christ,  and  our  relations  and  affections  back  again 
in  Jesus  Christ  to  God.  Had  Butler  but  followed  out 
his  own  teaching  on  relations  and  their  resulting  duties 
in  these  two  sermons,  what  a  magnificent  service  he 
would  thereby  have  rendered  to  New  Testament  theology 
and  morals,  and  to  his  New  Testament  readers. 
Carmichael,  while  warmly  defending  Butler  from  some 
philosophical  censures  of  Mackintosh,  and  Wardlaw, 
and  Maurice,  is  himself  compelled  to  append  this  note  of 
censure  to  these  two  sermons  :  '  It  will  be  a  matter  of 
surprise  and  regret  to  the  Christian  reader  that,  in  the 


252  BISHOP  BUTLER 

two  sermons  on  the  Love  of  God,  the  New  Testament 
should  have  been  almost  completely  ignored.  It  may 
indeed  be  urged  that  Butler  was  mainly  concerned  in 
establishing  upon  natural  and  metaphysical  grounds,  the 
reasonableness  of  our  love  of  God.  But  this  will  scarcely 
justify  the  omission  of  all  reference  to  truths,  such,  for 
example,  as  are  contained  in  the  words.  Come  unto  Me, 
all  ye  that  labour,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest.  Take  My  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  Me  ;  for 
I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto 
your  souls.'  But  the  best  explanation  of  this  constant 
and  distressing  defect  in  Butler  is  supplied  in  this  true 
distinction  of  Maurice  :  '  Butler  was  a  preacher  pro- 
fessionally ;  whereas  he  was  by  instinct  and  by  character 
a  philosopher.' 

Hazlitt  has  finely  said  about  Burke  that  the  only  speci- 
men of  the  great  orator  is  all  that  he  ever  wrote.  And 
the  same  thing  may  be  said  about  Butler  with  even  more 
truth  and  point.  At  the  same  time,  if  I  were  asked 
what,  to  my  mind,  is  the  best  specimen  of  the  real  Butler, 
I  would  without  hesitation  say  that  it  is  his  great  sermon 
On  The  Ignorance  of  Man.  Nowhere  else,  in  such  short 
space,  do  Butler's  immense  depth  of  mind  ;  his  con- 
stitutional seriousness  of  mind,  even  to  melancholy ; 
his  humility  and  his  wisdom,  all  come  out,  and  all  at 
their  best,  as  in  his  great  sermon  On  The  Ignorance  of 
Man.  Socrates  himself  might  have  written  the  sermon 
On  The  Ignorance  of  Man.  Only,  by  Butler's  day  the 
diameter  of  knowledge  had  been  so  extended  that  the 
corresponding  circumference  of  ignorance  was  immensely 
enlarged  beyond  the  realised  ignorance  of  Socrates's 
day.  '  Creation  is  absolutely  and  entirely  out  of  our 
depth  and  beyond  the  extent  of  our  utmost  reach.     And 


BISHOP  BUTLER  253 

yet  it  is  as  certain  that  God  made  the  world,  as  it  is 
certain  that  effects  must  have  a  cause.  It  is  indeed,  in 
general,  no  more  than  effects  that  the  most  knowing  are 
acquainted  with  ;  for  as  for  causes,  the  most  knowing 
are  as  entirely  in  the  dark  as  the  most  ignorant.'  And  so 
of  the  government  of  the  world.  '  Since  the  Divine 
Monarchy  is  a  dominion  unlimited  in  extent  and  ever- 
lasting in  duration,  it  cannot  but  be  absolutely  beyond 
our  comprehension.'  And  Butler's  deep  heart  reflects 
on  all  these  things  till  he  can  only  find  adequate  utter- 
ance for  his  heart  in  such  prostrate  and  adoring  passages 
as  these  :  '  Thy  faithfulness,  O  Lord,  reacheth  unto  the 
clouds  :  Thy  righteousness  standeth  like  the  strong 
mountains :  Thy  judgments  are  like  the  great  deep. 
O  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  the 
knowledge  of  God  !  How  unsearchable  are  His  judg- 
ments, and  His  ways  past  finding  out !  '  And,  then,  he 
would  not  be  Butler  if  he  did  not  read  all  that  home  to 
himself  and  to  his  hearers  in  some  of  the  weightiest  words 
that  ever  were  written  by  the  pen  of  man.  Dr.  Angus 
says  well  that  this  sermon  is  one  of  the  most  impressive 
examples  of  Butler's  wisdom.  Altogether,  the  fifteen 
Rolls  Sermons,  if  sometimes  very  '  abstruse  and  difficult, 
or,  if  you  please,  obscure,'  as  their  author  admits  they 
are,  will  always  be  an  epoch  in  the  intellectual  and 
moral  life  of  the  student  who  takes  the  trouble  to  master 
them. 

With  that  studied  caprice  which  becomes  so  belittling 
to  himself,  and  so  wearisome  to  his  most  admiring 
readers,  Matthew  Arnold  tells  us  that  the  most  entirely 
satisfactory  to  him  of  all  Butler's  productions  are  the 
Six  Sermons  on  Public  Occasions.  Arnold  is  alone  in 
that  satisfaction,  as  he  so  ostentatiously  advertises  him- 
self to  be.     The   Six  Sermons   are  very  able  sermons. 


254  BISHOP  BUTLER 

and  they  are  all  sermons  that  Butler  alone  in  that  day 
could  have  written.  But  there  is  one  sermon  among 
them  that  I  could  wish  for  the  honour  of  his  good  name 
that  Butler  had  never  written  :  his  sermon  preached 
before  the  House  of  Lords  on  '  The  martyrdom  of  King 
Charles  the  First.'  This  sermon  is  as  unworthy  of 
Butler  as  the  Gowrie  series  are  unworthy  of  Andrewes. 
Both  those  great  and  good  men  still  remained  men 
enough  to  suffer  both  their  pulpits  to  be  tuned,  on  occasion, 
and  by  the  same  finger. 

The  Analogy  of  Religion,  Natural  and  Revealed,  to 
the  Constitution  and  Course  of  Nature,  is  the  full 
title  of  Butler's  second  great  work.  '  Others,'  says 
Southey  in  his  famous  epitaph  on  Butler,  '  had  estab- 
lished the  historical  and  prophetical  grounds  of  the 
Christian  religion,  as  also  that  sure  testimony  to  its  truth 
^^  which  is  found  in  its  perfect  adaptation  to  the  heart  of 
man.  But  it  was  reserved  for  Butler  to  develop  its 
analogy  to  the  constitution  and  the  course  of  nature. 
And,  laying  its  strong  foundations  in  the  depth  of  that 
i^  argument,  there  to  construct  another  and  an  irrefragable 

proof.  Thus  rendering  philosophy  subservient  to  faith  ; 
and  finding  in  outward  and  visible  things  the  type  and 
the  evidence  of  things  within  the  veil.'  The  angel's 
yg  words  to  Adam  in  Paradise  Lost  will  supply  another 
remarkable  illustration  and  enforcement  of  Butler's 
title-page — 

'  What  surmounts  the  reach 
Of  humau  seuse  I  will  delineate  so 
By  likening  spiritual  to  corporal  forms 
As  may  express  them  best,  tho'  what  if  Earth 
Be  but  the  shadow  of  Heaven,  and  things  therein 
Each  to  other  like,  more  than  on  earth  is  thought  ? ' 


„A  J 


BISHOP  BUTLER  255 

The  Apostle's  words  also  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans 
might  very  well  have  been  taken  for  a  motto  to  the 
Analogy  :  '  For  the  invisible  things  of  Him  from  the 
creation  of  the  world  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood 
by  the  things  that  are  made,  even  His  eternal  power  and 
Godhead,  so  that  they  are  without  excuse.'  '  All  things 
are  double,  one  against  another,'  says  one  of  Butler's 
favourite  authors.  And,  then,  the  real  design  of  the 
Analogy,  as  Butler  himself  explains  to  us,  is  not,  as  so 
many  have  assumed,  to  vindicate  the  character  of  God, 
but  to  show  the  obligations  of  men  :  it  is  not  to  justify 
God's  providences  toward  us,  but  to  show  us  what  belongs 
to  us  to  do  under  His  providences. 

When  the  studious  reader  of  the  Rolls  Sermons  opens 
the  Analogy,  he  has  not  gone  far  into  that  deep  book 
till  he  begins  to  discover  the  presence  of  the  Rolls  preacher 
in  the  person  of  the  philosopher.  The  same  qualities  of 
mind,  and  heart,  and  character  that  so  signalised  the 
preacher  come  out  conspicuously  in  the  ajDologist  also. 
The  same  profound  thoughtfulness  at  once  comes  out, 
the  same  deep  seriousness,  the  same  sober-mindedness, 
the  same  intellectual  and  moral  humility,  the  same 
scrupulous  truthfulness,  the  same  fairness  to  opponents, 
the  same  immediate  and  unquestioning  submission  to 
the  will  of  God,  and  the  same  subordination  of  everything 
to  the  sovereignty  of  conscience  :  all  these  characteristic 
qualities  so  come  out  both  in  the  Sermons  and  in  the 
Analogy,  that  if  both  these  books  had  been  anonymous, 
every  capable  reader  would  have  set  them  down  with 
absolute  certainty  to  the  same  author.  And  this  is 
just  what  Butler  starts  his  great  work  by  saying  about 
Nature  and  Revelation  ;  and  he  repeats  it  and  proves 
it  till  he  claims  at  the  end  of  his  high  argument  to  have  as 


256  BISHOP  BUTLER 

good  as  demonstrated  to  every  willing  and  receptive 
reader  that  the  Author  of  Nature  is  also  the  Author  of 
Revelation.  Butler  is  the  most  modest  of  controver- 
sialists ;  but  as  he  closes  his  Analogy  he  is  bold  to  claim 
that  he  has  shut  all  serious-minded  men  up  to  the  beliefs, 
and  to  the  comforts,  and  to  the  duties,  and  to  the  hopes, 
that  all  arise  out  of  Revelation.  The  amazingly  close 
analogy  that  subsists  between  natural  and  revealed 
religion  and  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature  is 
Butler's  great  argument,  but  no  mere  description  of  his 
argument,  however  true  and  however  exact,  and  no 
epitome  of  it,  not  even  his  own  masterly  epitome  of  it, 
can  convey  any  conception  of  the  wealth  of  thought  that 
goes  to  establish  his  argument,  or  of  the  enlarging  and 
enriching  of  mind  that  comes  to  the  reader  as  he  accom- 
panies Butler  through  his  magnificent  apology.  Till  the 
reader  ceases  to  wonder  at  the  extraordinary  acknowledg- 
ments of  indebtedness  that  he  finds  paid  to  Butler  on  all 
hands.  '  Bishop  Butler,'  wrote  Mr.  Gladstone  in  1873, 
'  taught  me  forty-five  years  ago  to  suspend  my  judgment 
on  things  I  knew  I  did  not  understand.  Even  with  his  aid 
I  may  often  have  been  wrong ;  without  him  I  think  I 
should  never  have  been  right.  And  oh  !  that  this  age 
knew  the  treasure  it  possesses  in  him,  and  neglects.' 
*  I  have  derived  greater  aid  from  the  views  and  reason- 
ings of  Bishop  Butler,'  says  Dr.  Chalmers,  '  than  I  have 
been  able  to  find  besides  in  the  whole  range  of  our  extant 
authorship.  It  was  Butler  who  made  me  a  Christian,' 
says  that  great  man  and  true  Christian.  True  as  I  believe 
all  that  to  be,  at  the  same  time  I  entirely  agree  with 
what  Maurice  says  in  his  admirable  remarks  on  the 
Analogy.  '  Butler,'  says  Maurice,  '  is  such  a  great  and 
generative  thinker,  that  his  hints  are  often  far  more 
to  us  than  even  his  conclusions.'     Now,  that  has  been 


BISHOP  BUTLER  257 

the  case  most  emphatically  with  myself.  I  have  almost 
lost  myself  sometimes  in  travelling  on  to  Butler's  con- 
clusions. But  it  has  been  the  hints  of  things,  and  the 
seeds  of  thought,  that  Butler  has  dropped  into  my  mind 
as  I  walked  with  him — it  is  this  that  makes  me  to  con- 
tinue to  walk  with  him  and  to  keep  so  close  beside  him. 
Dean  Church  also  has  given  eloquent  expression  to  my 
own  feelings  as  a  student  of  Butler.  '  Even  if  a  person 
cannot  thoroughly  master  the  argument,  yet  the  tone 
and  the  spirit  of  the  book,  and  its  whole  manner  of  look- 
ing at  things,  is  so  remarkable,  is  so  high,  so  original, 
so  pure  and  so  calmly  earnest,  that  great  interest  may 
be  taken  in  Butler's  book,  and  an  infinite  amount  of 
good  may  be  got  out  of  it  even  by  those  who  are  baffled 
by  its  difficult  argument.'  And  again,  '  there  is  as  much 
to  be  learned  from  Butler's  tone  and  manner  as  there  is 
from  the  substance  of  his  reasonings.' 

'  Probability  is  the  very  guide  of  life.'  This 
famous  proposition  of  Butler's  contains  the  essence  of 
his  extraordinarily  able  Introduction  to  the  Analogy. 
And  to  master  Butler's  great  doctrine  of  probability  is 
the  student's  first  palscstra-like  encounter  with  Butler, 
of  which  encounter  Mr.  Gladstone  writes  so  impressively 
and  so  eloquently.  Multitudes  of  new  beginners  have 
been  turned  away  from  Butler  by  the  difficulty  they 
experienced  in  mastering  his  opening  pages.  But  had 
they  persevered  ;  had  they  tried  the  Introduction  again 
and  again,  and  had  they  been  encouraged  to  go  on  into 
the  body  of  the  book  even  though  they  had  not  yet  taken 
full  possession  of  its  opening  pages,  they  would  have  got 
such  pleasure  and  such  profit  in  the  body  of  the  book 
that  they  would  have  returned  to  the  Introduction 
somewhat  accustomed  to  Butler's  difficult  style,  and 
would  thus  have  more  easily  mastered  his  fundamental 


258  BISHOP  BUTLER 

principles.  What  both  Maurice  and  Church  say  so  well 
about  the  difficulty  of  Butler's  writings,  and  at  the 
same  time  about  his  many  ways  of  rewarding  his  per- 
severing readers,  should  be  kept  continually  before  all 
new  beginners  in  this  great  intellectual  arena.  As  also 
this  that  Dr.  Bernard  says  on  this  subject  :  '  It  is  con- 
duct, not  conviction,  that  Butler  has  in  his  mind  through- 
out.' And  so  true  is  it  that  probability  is  the  guide  of 
life  and  conduct,  that  there  will  be  seasons  with  the 
most  experienced  and  the  most  assured  of  Christian  men 
when  difficulties,  both  speculative  and  experimental, 
will  so  beset  them  that  they  will  be  fain  to  fall  back 
upon  Butler's  great  law  of  probability.  And  if  they 
are  happy  enough  to  be  students  of  Butler  and  followers 
of  his,  they  will  often  be  inexpressibly  thankful  to  him 
for  what  he  has  said  Avith  such  power  and  such  per- 
suasiveness as  to  the  wisdom  and  the  duty  of  our  acting 
oftentimes  on  a  bare  probability  in  the  absence  of 
demonstrative  proof  and  full  assurance.  A  proof  and 
an  assurance  that  we  cannot  possibly  have  concerning 
the  most  important  matters  both  of  this  life  and  the 
next.  Do  what  your  conscience  tells  you  to  be  your 
duty,  even  if  it  is  only  on  probable  evidence,  and  in  doing 
so  you  Avill  act  according  to  the  true  nature  of  your 
own  mind  and  heart,  and  according  to  the  true  nature  of 
this  whole  economy  in  which  God  has  placed  you  here, 
says  Butler  to  his  readers.  And  this  is  just  his  philo- 
sophical and  apologetical  way  of  adapting  to  us  our 
Lord's  own  authoritative  and  assuring  words  :  '  If  any 
man  will  do  the  will  of  God,  he  shall  know  the  doctrine.' 
And  again,  '  If  ye  continue  in  My  word,  then  are  ye 
My  disciples  indeed.  And  ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and 
the  truth  shall  make  you  free.' 


BISHOP  BUTLER  259 

'  Death,  that  unknown  event,'  never  dies  out  of 
Butler's  thoughts,  and  he  never  lets  it  die  out  of  his 
reader's  thoughts.  Butler's  whole  life  was,  in  Plato's 
words,  one  long  meditation  on  death  ;  on  our  due  pre- 
paration for  death,  on  our  due  anticipation  of  death,  on 
the  real  nature  and  exact  experience  of  death  when  it 
comes  to  us,  and  on  the  nature  of  that  life  which  follows 
death.  If  I  am  to  imagine  other  readers  of  Butler  to  be 
exercised  under  his  arguments  and  conclusions  as  I  am, 
the  first  chapter  of  the  Analogy  will  give  them  not  a  few 
thoughts  and  feelings  in  connection  with  the  great 
shock  and  alteration  which  they  will  undergo  by  death, 
thoughts  and  feelings  whicli  will  never  leave  them. 
While  it  will  lead  them  to  dwell  far  more  than  they  have 
hitherto  dwelt  on  '  that  something  in  themselves  which 
is  quite  out  of  the  reach  of  the  king  of  terrors.'  The 
whole  argument  of  Butler's  chapter  on  a  future  state 
may  best  be  summed  up  in  these  words  of  the  Apostle  : 
'  For  which  cause  we  faint  not ;  but  though  our  outward 
man  perish,  yet  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day.' 
And  in  these  words  of  one  of  Butler's  latest  and  best 
commentators  :  '  The  senses  may  grow  weak  ;  but  the 
man  himself  does  not  weaken  in  truth,  in  honesty,  in 
uprightness,  in  love.' 

In  no  part  of  his  solemnising  and  overawing  book 
docs  Butler  more  solemnise  and  overawe  his  readers  than 
in  his  chapter  on  probation.  '  The  conception,'  says 
Canon  Spooner,  '  which  in  these  chapters  Butler  has 
elaborated,  of  our  present  life  being  a  period  of  probation 
for  a  future  state  of  existence,  has  probably  affected 
English  thought  more  than  any  other  part  of  the 
Analogy.^  This  life  is  not  an  end  in  itself  and  to  itself  ; 
this  life  is  meaningless  and  purposeless,  it  is  a  maze  and 
a   mystery,    it    is    absolutely    without     explanation    or 


260  BISHOP  BUTLER 

justification  to  Butler  unless  it  is  the  ordained  entrance 
to  another  life  which  is  to  be  the  completion  and  the 
compensation  of  this  life.  But,  then,  grant  that  this 
present  life  is  but  the  schoolroom  and  the  practising- 
ground  to  another  life,  and  what  a  grandeur  straightway 
invests  this  life  !  What  a  holy  fear,  and  what  a  holy 
hope,  thenceforward  take  possession  of  the  heart  of  the 
probationer  of  immortality  !  And  then  it  is  in  working 
out  his  great  argument  of  probation  that  Butler  discovers 
to  his  readers  the  momentous  part  that  the  law  of  habit 
performs  in  the  formation  of  character,  and  in  the 
successful  or  unsuccessful  probation  of  every  man  who 
has  another  life  before  him.  Next  to  his  having  made 
his  great  discovery  concerning  conscience,  Butler  has 
done  nothing  more  important  and  more  fruitful  than  his 
enunciation  and  illustration  of  the  doctrine  of  habit. 
'  This  part  of  the  chapter,'  says  Canon  Collins,  '  is  mainly 
founded  on  Aristotle's  ethical  theory,  and  Butler's 
exposition  of  the  growth  and  power  of  habit  has  been 
considered  by  many  to  be  the  most  valuable  part  of  the 
whole  treatise.'  But  Mr.  Gladstone,  always  scrupulously 
jealous  for  Butler's  honour,  says,  '  Seminally,  the 
declarations  in  the  Ethics  of  Aristotle  are  of  great  weight. 
But  the  Greek  writer  does  not  enter  on  the  field  of  self- 
education  at  all.  The  idea  of  mental  habits  is  radically 
distinct  in  the  two  writers  ;  and  the  full  development  of 
the  subject,  with  the  great  lessons  it  conveys,  seems 
to  be  due  to  the  thought  of  Butler.'  Some  of  Butler's 
most  thought-laden  passages  are  on  this  subject,  and 
they  are  passages  never  to  be  forgotten  by  him  who  has 
once  read  them  and  laid  them  to  heart. 

In  the  Second  Part  of  the  Analogy,  as  in  the  First 
Part,  it  is  the  originality,  and  the  depth,  and  the  serious- 


BISHOP  BUTLER  261 

ness,  and  the  suggestiveness,  of  Butler's  incidental 
thoughts,  occasional  aphorisms,  and  solemnising  reflec- 
tions, that  chiefly  instruct  and  impress  the  reader.  The 
great  argument  in  itself  does  not  in  every  part  find  and 
command  the  modern  reader.  But  no  reader  with 
sufficient  mind  and  heart,  and,  as  Butler  is  always 
saying,  with  sufficient  seriousness,  can  accompany 
Butler  through  his  discussion  of  Revealed  Religion 
without  carrying  away  both  enlightening  and  enriching 
for  all  his  after  days.  Butler  opens  his  Second  Part 
with  some  great  thoughts  strikingly  expressed  on  this 
thesis  of  his,  that  Revealed  Religion  is  an  authoritative 
republication  of  Natural  Religion ;  that  the  divine 
truths  which  had  become  dimmed  and  distorted  in  the 
blinded  minds  and  the  corrupted  hearts  of  fallen  men, 
were  kindled  afresh,  and  were  set  forth  in  more  than  all 
their  pristine  authority  and  power,  in  Revelation. 
'  Christianity  especially  ' — they  are  Butler's  own  words 
— '  is  a  republication  of  Natural  Religion.  Christianity 
instructs  mankind  in  the  moral  system  of  the  world  ; 
that  it  is  the  work  of  an  infinitely  perfect  Being,  and  is 
under  His  government ;  that  virtue  is  His  law  ;  and 
that  He  will  finally  judge  mankind  in  righteousness, 
and  render  to  all  according  to  their  works,  in  a  future 
state.  And,  which  is  very  material,  Christianity  teaches 
Natural  Religion  in  its  genuine  simplicity  ;  free  from 
those  superstitions  with  which  it  was  totally  corrupted, 
and  under  which  it  was  in  a  manner  lost.'  But  the 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  blessed  be  God,  is  a  vast  deal 
more,  and  a  vast  deal  better,  than  a  mere  republication 
of  Natural  Religion.  Holy  Scripture  sets  forth  an 
absolutely  new  departure  that  Almighty  God  has  taken 
toward  the  children  of  men.  In  Natural  Religion,  God 
is  revealed  as  the  Maker,  and  the  Law-giver,  and  the 


262  BISHOP  BUTLER 

Judge  of  men  ;  as  our  Father  also,  and  our  Friend. 
But  how  glorious  His  fatherhood  is,  and  how  blessed  His 
friendship,  the  Gospel  alone  has  revealed.  Natural 
Religion  in  its  highest  and  best  dispensation  might 
attain  to  tell  us  that  God  had  sent  forth  His  Logos-Son 
to  create,  and  to  enlighten,  and  to  govern,  and  to  judge 
the  world.  But  no  man  ever  read  in  the  very  best  book 
of  Natural  Religion  that  God  so  loved  the  world  as  to 
make  His  Son  to  be  sin  for  us,  that  we  might  be  made 
the  righteousness  of  God  in  Him.  But  instead  of  taking 
up  and  pursuing  this  line  of  thought,  Butler  turns  im- 
mediately to  quite  another  field  of  things  in  which  he  is 
much  more  at  home.  And  he  proceeds  to  draw  out 
and  to  illustrate  the  striking  contrast  between  what  he 
calls  moral  and  positive  duties.  No  doubt  the  oppor- 
tunities, if  not  the  necessities,  of  his  argument  offered 
this  field  of  reflection  to  Butler.  But  it  is  painfully 
characteristic  of  our  author  that  he  can  always  find 
plenty  of  room  for  purely  ethical  and  logical  discussions, 
but  keeps  scrupulously  close  to  his  philosophical  and 
analogical  argument  as  often  as  he  comes  into  the 
neighbourhood  of  apostolical  and  evangelical  truth. 
'  In  reviewing  this  chapter,'  says  Dr.  Angus,  '  too  much 
stress  cannot  be  laid  on  the  principle  laid  down  by  Dr. 
Chalmers.  Christianity  is  not  only  a  republication  of 
natural  religion,  with  added  truth,  but  the  added  truth 
is  adapted  to  the  condition  in  which  natural  religion 
leaves  us.  The  first  without  the  second,  the  republication 
without  the  remedial  addition,  would  have  been  a 
message  of  terror  and  denunciation.  It  is  the  Gospel 
which  reconciles  all  difficulties  ;  and  which,  besides  adding 
the  light  of  its  own  manifestation,  resolves  all  the  doubts 
and  hushes  all  the  fears  which  natural  religion  had 
awakened.'     At  the  same  time,  let  us  not  be  tempted 


BISHOP  BUTLER  263 

to  make  little  of  the  immense  service  Butler  has  done 
for  us,  because  he  has  not  performed  for  us  the  highest 
service  of  all.  Let  us  not  cast  Butler  to  the  moles  and 
the  bats  because  he  is  not  able  to  give  us  all  that  we 
demand  of  him.  All  the  more  since  we  have  the  full 
truth  on  this  subject,  and  at  this  stage,  in  Chalmers  and 
Angus  and  many  others,  in  correction  and  in  completion 
of  Butler.  Let  us  go  on  to  study,  with  all  due  attention 
and  profit,  those  remarkably  suggestive  chapters  on 
moral  and  positive  institutions  and  duties,  thankful  for 
the  great  services  Butler  here  performs  to  us,  instead 
of  uselessly  complaining  because  of  the  absence  of 
services  that,  to  his  own  impoverishment,  he  was  not 
able  to  perform. 

In  these  days,  when  so  much  attention  is  being  given 
to  the  history  of  revelation — that  is  to  say  to  the  sundry 
times  and  divers  manners  in  which  God  spake  unto  the 
fathers  by  the  prophets — Butler's  two  chapters  on  those 
sundry  times  and  divers  manners  are  intensely  interest- 
ing and  highly  instructive.  Butler  alone  could  have 
written  the  chapter  on  our  unfitness  to  sit  in  judgment  as 
to  when  and  how  God  would  speak  to  the  children  of 
men.  The  whole  argument  at  this  point  is  most  en- 
lightening and  most  enlarging  to  the  mind  of  the  reader. 
And  then,  we  come  again  and  again  on  passages  that 
would  almost  seem  to  have  been  written  in  anticipation 
of  our  own  perplexed  and  anxious  day.  Such  passages 
as  this  :  '  Neither  this  obscurity,  nor  seeming  inaccuracy 
of  style,  nor  various  readings,  nor  early  disputes  about 
the  authors  of  particular  parts,  nor  any  other  thing  of 
the  like  kind,  though  they  had  been  much  more  con- 
siderable than  they  are,  could  overthrow  the  authority 
of  Scripture,  unless  the  prophets,  the  apostles,  or  our 
Lord  Himself  had  promised  that  the  book  containing 


264  BISHOP  BUTLER 

the  Divine  revelation  should  be  secure  from  those  things.' 
Butler's  whole  discussion  on  Scripture  is  full  of  that 
sanity  and  sobriety  of  mind,  and  that  deep  and  reverent 
wisdom,  with  which  he  has  made  us  so  familiar  in  all 
his  previous  writings.  At  the  same  time,  it  must  be 
admitted  that  when  Butler  passes  on  from  the  defence 
of  revelation  to  the  exposition  of  the  contents  and 
substance  of  revelation,  he  by  no  means  shows  the  same 
qualities  of  mind  as  heretofore,  nor  commands  the  same 
assent  and  admiration  from  all  his  readers  as  heretofore. 
All  the  remaining  chapters  of  the  Analogy  are  full  of  the 
finest  thoughts,  and  the  most  fruitful  suggestions  ;  but, 
as  a  whole,  the  remainder  of  the  work  falls  very  much 
below  the  high  and  adequate  level  of  the  First  Part. 
Butler  has  no  equal  in  his  defence  of  the  outworks  of 
the  Christian  faith.  But  when  he  passes  into  the  inner 
sanctuary  itself,  he  no  longer  commands  the  same  assent 
and  admiration  as  he  does  among  the  defences.  '  Butler,' 
says  Chalmers,  '  is  like  one  who,  with  admirable  skill, 
lays  down  the  distances  and  the  directions  of  a  land 
into  which  he  has  not  travelled  very  far  himself.'  '  But,' 
adds  Chalmers,  '  without  sitting  in  judgment  on  the 
personal  religion  of  Butler,  it  is  the  part  of  the  Christian 
world  to  own  their  deepest  obligations  to  the  man  who 
has  so  nobly  asserted  the  authority  of  the  Word  of  God 
over  all  the  darkling  speculations  of  human  fancy,  and 
who  has  evinced  to  us,  by  the  truest  of  all  philosophy, 
that  we  should  cast  down  every  lofty  imagination  and 
bring  all  our  thoughts  into  the  captivity  of  its  obedience.' 
Dr.  John  Cairns — who,  his  biographer  tells  us,  read  the 
Analogy  regularly  once  a  year — writing  to  his  sister  from 
Stanhope  in  the  year  1873,  says  :  '  Here,  doubtless,  the 
Analogy  was  finally  thought  out  and  adjusted  to  its 
present  state.     I  had  a  specimen  of  the  local  humour 


BISHOP  BUTLER  265 

when  asking  a  young  farmer  what  I  should  see  from 
a  distant  point.  His  reply  was,  '  a  sight  of  fell,  and  the 
road.'  It  was  only  too  true.  For  I  had  to  labour  on 
through  the  fell  till  at  last  the  ocean  rose  upon  the  view. 
A  sight  of  fell,  but  a  road  through  it,  and  a  grand  out- 
look beyond,  is  not  a  bad  image  of  Butler's  work. 

The  very  title-page  of  Butler's  great  book  shows  the 
immense  capaciousness  of  Butler's  mind.  The  Constitu- 
tion of  Nature — how  vast  a  subjeet  is  that  for  a  human 
mind  to  attempt  to  grasp  !  And  then,  the  Course  of 
Nature — how  vast  a  subject  is  that  also  for  a  human 
mind  to  attempt  to  trace  and  follow  out  !  And  then  to 
take  up  both  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion,  and  to  lay 
both  those  great  fields  of  Divine  truth  alongside  of 
Nature,  both  in  her  constitution  and  her  course — all 
that  was  surely  far  too  much  for  any  created  mind  to 
undertake.  And  yet  Butler  was  not  only  led  to  under- 
take all  that,  but  was  enabled  to  carry  all  that  out 
in  a  way  that  has  been  the  wonder  and  the  praise  of 
all  his  readers  ever  since.  Never  had  a  book,  after  the 
Bible  itself,  a  more  capacious  title-page  than  the  Analogy, 
and  never  had  an  uninspired  book  a  more  complete 
success  in  what  it  undertook.  Butler  has  never  had 
sitting  at  his  feet  a  more  capacious-minded  scholar  than 
Mr.  Gladstone.  And  this  is  how  that  generous-hearted 
and  grateful-hearted  man  speaks  about  the  capacious 
mind  of  his  master  :  '  The  argument  of  the  Analogy 
is  an  argument  perhaps  even  greater  than  Butler  him- 
self was  aware.  In  opening  up  his  argument,  which  in 
my  judgment  stands  among  the  masterpieces  of  the 
human  mind,  Butler  has  unfolded  to  us  the  entire  method 
of  God's  dealings  with  His  creatures  ;  and  in  this  way 
the  argument  which  he  offers  us  is  as  wide  as  those 


266  BISHOP  BUTLER 

dealings  themselves.'  And  again  :  '  It  is  Butler  who, 
more  than  any  other  writer,  opens  to  us  the  one  all- 
pervading  scheme  upon  which  Almighty  God  deals  with 
His  creatures.'  And  again :  '  Butler's  method  is  so 
comprehensive  as  to  embrace  every  question  belonging 
to  the  relations  between  the  Deity  and  man.'  The  truth 
is,  very  much  what  his  great  contemporary  Newton  is 
in  the  material  world  that  Butler  is  in  the  moral  world. 
And  more  than  once  Butler  as  good  as  acknowledges  the 
debt  he  owed  to  the  discoveries  of  his  great  contemporary. 
Dr.  AVace  carries  out  the  parallel  between  Newton  and 
Butler  in  a  very  interesting  and  suggestive  way  in  his 
lecture  on  Butler  in  Typical  English  Churchmen. 

In  the  matter  of  Butler's  imagination  I  am  not  only 
alone  against  almost  all  the  world,  but  also  at  first  sight 
against  Butler  himself.  For  he  never  once  mentions  the 
imagination  without  belittling  it,  and  he  more  than 
once  actually  vilifies  it,  to  use  one  of  his  own  strong 
words  about  another  great  faculty  of  the  human  mind. 
And  Bagehot's  passages  on  this  subject  may  be  taken  as 
only  too  good  specimens  of  the  way  that  Butler  has  been 
taken  at  his  own  unfortunate  valuation  in  the  matter  of 
the  imagination.  For  that  able  essayist  actually  says, 
and  says  it  with  a  great  and  a  repeated  emphasis,  that 
Butler  is  wholly  wanting  in  imagination,  that  he  is 
wholly  deficient  in  the  visual  faculty,  that  he  is  not  able 
to  picture  particulars,  and  that  no  instances  or  illus- 
trations occur  in  his  writings.  Able  and  authoritative 
as  Bagehot  is,  I  must  be  permitted  to  say  that  I  cannot 
agree  with  him  in  all  that.  I  cannot  agree  with  him 
that  Butler  does  not  see  what  he  is  writing  about,  and 
does  not  let  his  reader  see  what  he  is  reading  about. 
Butler  docs  not  indeed  delay  in  his  great  task  to  expatiate 


BISHOP  BUTLER  267 

pictorially  on  what  he  sees.  He  docs  not  take  time 
in  his  high  argument  to  describe  dramatically  and  dilate 
eloquently  on  the  vast  visions  that  pass  before  his 
heaven-soaring  mind.  His  imagination  does  not  come 
out  in  purple  patches  on  his  pages.  But  if  Butler  had 
not  himself  seen  the  great  things  of  nature,  and  of  natural 
and  revealed  religion,  with  his  own  inward,  and  imagina- 
tive, and  realising  eye,  he  could  never  have  made  me  see 
and  realise  them  as  I,  for  one,  must  always  acknowledge 
and  rejoice  that  he  has  done.  '  Of  some  assistance  to 
apprehension,'  is  one  of  Butler's  far  too  grudging,  and 
far  too  ungrateful,  references  to  a  faculty  of  his  own 
mind,  which  he  employs  continually  to  assist  his  own 
apprehension  and  that  of  his  readers.  Butler  ought  to 
have  been  as  scrupulous  not  to  vilify  or  undervalue 
imagination,  as  he  is  not  to  vilify  or  undervalue  reason, 
since  imagination  is  the  only  faculty  we  possess  in  this 
life  that  can  be  to  us  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for, 
and  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen.  A  service  that 
both  Butler  and  all  his  readers  are  continually  receiving 
at  the  realising  and  illuminating  hands  of  the  imagination. 
To  me,  at  any  rate,  let  Butler  himself,  and  Bagehot, 
and  all  Butler's  other  critics,  say  what  they  will,  Butler 
will  always  rank,  if  not  with  the  great  masters  of  the 
dramatic  and  pictorial  imagination,  such  as  Dante  and 
Bunyan  and  Milton,  yet  with  those  other  masterly  minds, 
who  by  means  of  that  same  noble  faculty,  exercised  in 
another  way,  have  made  me  vividly  realise  what  I  had 
hitherto  but  vaguely  heard  of,  and  who  have  also  made 
things  to  be  present  and  impressive  to  me  which  had 
hitherto  been  so  remote  as  to  be  all  but  unreal.  '  See  !  ' 
exclaims  Maurice,  '  how  he  throws  in  the  length  of  the 
ages  and  the  immensity  of  the  universe.'  As  often  as 
Butler  is  brought  to  a  standstill  in  his  high  argument  till  he 


268  BISHOP  BUTLER 

again  says  to  his  reader  suppose,  suppose,  suppose — and 
he  says  that  in  some  of  his  chapters  in  every  second 
sentence— Butler  by  saying  that,  and  by  the  way  he  goes 
on  to  make  his  suppositions,  summons  all  my  imagination 
into  his  service,  till  his  whole  high  argument  is  lighted  up 
to  me  from  the  one  end  of  heaven  to  the  other.  And  till 
ever  after,  the  dry  light  of  Butler's  own  reason  is  suffused 
and  softened,  and  shed  far  and  wide,  as  only  the  imagina- 
tion could  suffuse  it,  and  soften  it,  and  shed  it  abroad. 
The  simple  truth  is,  as  Mr.  Gladstone  so  regretfully 
points  out,  there  is  a  serious  confusion  of  language  on 
Butler's  part  in  all  those  passages  in  which  he  seems  to 
us  to  vilify  the  imagination.  For  it  is  not  against  the 
imagination  proper  that  Butler  is  writing  at  all  in  those 
unfortunate  and  misleading  passages,  says  Mr.  Gladstone, 
but  it  is  against  '  an  unbridled  fancy,  an  intellectual 
caprice,  and  an  ill-regulated  judgment.'  All  which 
things  are  as  far  as  the  poles  asunder  from  the  proper 
use  of  the  imagination,  that  so  superb  faculty  of  the 
human  mind.  '  The  term  imagination  in  Butler's 
pages,'  so  Mr.  Gladstone  sums  up,  '  would  seem  to  be 
a  misnomer.'  I  will  be  bold  to  add,  it  not  only 
seems  to  be  a  misnomer  but  actually  is  such  a  fatal 
misnomer  as  to  have  misled  many  of  Butler's  readers, 
and  drawn  them  wholly  away  from  the  due  recognition 
and  the  due  appreciation  of  a  divinely  given  faculty  that 
as  little  deserves  to  be  vilified  as  either  the  reason  or  the 
conscience  themselves.  Dean  Church  alone  has  done 
something  like  justice  to  this  noble  endowment  of  Butler's 
own  mind.  '  That  was  the  feature  of  Butler's  mind,' 
says  the  Dean  in  his  brilliant  lecture,  '  that  he  never 
lost  hold  on  his  high  thoughts,  and  never  let  custom  or 
any  other  thing  close  his  eyes  or  raise  a  mist  between 
him  and  them.     It  was  his  power,  the  greatest  perhaps 


BISHOP  BUTLER  269 

that  he  had,  that  what  his  reason  told  him  was  certain 
and  true,  he  was  able  continually  to  see,  and  feel,  and 
imagine  to  be  true  and  real.  He  had  the  power  of 
faith.'  And  again  :  '  These  touches  of  imagination  and 
feeling  come  in  the  midst  of  austere  argument  or  state- 
ment ;  they  come  in  naturally  and  unforced  ;  and  they 
give  us  a  momentary  glimpse,  the  more  interesting 
because  rare,  into  the  depths  of  a  great  mind.'  And 
again  in  what  Mr.  Gladstone  calls  '  that  masterly  sermon 
of  Dean  Church,'  '  there  are  passages  in  Butler,  when  we 
read  between  the  lines  of  his  words,  that  at  first  sight 
look  so  dry  and  commonplace,  which  seem  to  open  a 
glimpse  of  the  very  foundations  of  the  world  and  nature.' 
And  Professor  Alexander  Bain,  in  a  striking  passage  in 
his  Study  of  Character,  says  on  this  same  subject :  '  The 
many  observations  scattered  over  Butler's  writings  that 
have  been  esteemed  for  their  profundity,  owe  their  force 
to  the  flash  of  some  hidden  identity  that  gives  a  new 
aspect  to  an  old  problem.  Remove  from  Butler's  mind 
his  foremost  end,  which  is  to  obtain  truth  ;  give  him 
the  local  susceptibilities  to  colour  and  form,  to  words, 
cadence,  and  metre  ;  and  the  same  reach  of  the  identify- 
ing faculty  would  have  emerged  in  a  poet.' 

It  is  a  great  lesson  in  English  composition  to  read 
what  has  been  written  first  and  last  about  Butler's  style. 
And  the  best  thing  that  has  ever  been  said  on  that 
subject  was  what  Butler  said  himself.  In  the  Preface 
to  the  second  edition  of  his  Rolls  Sermons  he  replied  in 
these  words  to  the  fault  that  had  been  found  with  his 
style  of  writing, — '  It  must  be  acknowledged  that  some 
of  the  following  discourses  are  very  abstruse  and  difficult ; 
or,  if  you  please,  obscure.  But  I  must  take  leave  to  add 
that  those  alone  are  judges  whether  or  no  this  is  a  fault 


270  BISHOP  BUTLER 

who  are  judges  whether  or  no  and  how  far  it  might  have 
been  avoided.  Those  only  who  will  be  at  the  trouble  to 
understand  what  is  here  said,  and  to  see  how  far  the 
things  here  insisted  upon  and  not  other  things,  might 
have  been  put  in  a  plainer  manner  :  which  I  am  very  far 
from  asserting  they  could  not.  Confusion  and  perplexity 
in  writing  is  indeed  without  excuse,  because  any  one 
may,  if  he  pleases,  know  whether  he  understands  and 
sees  through  what  he  is  about.  And  it  is  unpardonable 
for  a  man  to  lay  his  thoughts  before  others  when  he  is 
conscious  that  he  himself  does  not  know  whereabouts  he 
is,  or  how  the  matter  before  him  stands.  It  is  coming 
abroad  in  disorder,  which  he  ought  to  be  dissatisfied  [to 
find  himself  in  at  home.'  And  then  at  the  end  of  his 
extraordinarily  ably  written  preface  he  puts  in  this 
claim  for  himself,  that  at  any  rate  he  has  written  his 
sermons  '  with  simplicity  and  earnestness  of  purpose.' 
Take  the  following  as  so  many  most  interesting  speci- 
mens of  the  debate  that  has  been  held  over  Butler's  style. 
John  Byrom,  stenographer  and  poet,  and  William  Law's 
Boswell,  has  this  in  his  Journal.  '  Some,'  says  Byrom, 
'  thought  Butler  a  little  too  little  vigorous,  and  wished 
he  would  have  spoken  more  earnestly.'  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  who  averred  that  he  owed  all  his  philosophy 
to  Butler,  at  the  same  time  allows  himself  to  call  the 
Rolls  Sermons  '  those  deep  and  dark  dissertations.' 
And  he  goes  on  to  say  that  '  no  thinker  so  great  was  ever 
so  bad  a  writer.'  On  the  other  hand,  Bartlett,  Butler's 
best  biographer,  has  this  on  the  matter  in  hand  :  '  We 
have  heard  persons  talk  of  the  obscurity  of  Bishop 
Butler's  style,  and  lament  that  his  book  was  not  rewritten 
by  some  more  luminous  master  of  language.  We  have 
always  suspected  that  such  critics  know  very  little  about 
the    Analogy.     We    would    have    no    sacrilegious    hand 


BISHOP  BUTLER  271 

touch  it.  To  touch  it  would  be  hke  officious  meddHng 
with  a  well-considered  move  at  chess.  The  Analogy  is 
a  work  carefully  and  closely  packed  up  out  of  twenty 
years'  hard  thinking.  It  must  have  filled  folios  had  its 
illustrious  author  taken  less  time  to  concoct  it ;  for 
never  was  there  a  stronger  instance  of  the  truth  of  the 
observation,  that  it  requires  far  more  time  to  make  a 
small  book  than  a  large  one.'  And  further  on  he  adds  : 
'  The  style  of  Butler  has,  we  think,  been  condemned  un- 
deservedly. It  certainly  is  not  formed  to  anything  like 
Ciceronian  harmony  and  elegance  ;  but  it  seldom  offends 
the  ear,  or  violates  the  purity  of  the  English  idiom.' 
'  After  all,'  says  Fitzgerald,  one  of  Butler's  best  editors, 
'  the  faults  of  his  style  are  greatly  overstated  by  many  of 
his  critics.  It  may  not  be  polished  ;  but  it  is  good, 
plain,  downright  English,  the  words  are  proper  for  his 
purpose,  and  they  are  generally  put  in  their  proper 
places.  Nay,  though  it  would  be  absurd  to  claim  for 
Butler's  general  style  the  artful  simplicity  of  Addison's 
elegance,  the  brilliant  perspicuity  of  Berkeley,  or  even 
the  plain  compactness  of  Swift,  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  there  occur,  here  and  there,  passages  of  pure, 
musical,  Saxon-English  that  will  not  suffer  from  a  com- 
parison with  any  of  those  great  models.'  '  Butler's  style,' 
admits  Dean  Goulburn,  '  though  it  has  a  massive  grandeur 
and  solidity  in  it,  is  yet  anything  but  attractive  to  the 
general  reader.'  '  Butler's  words,'  says  Maurice,  '  often 
become  feeble  and  contradictory,  because  he  cannot 
write  what  is  struggling  within  him.'  '  A  great  thinker, 
but  a  poor  writer,'  says  Bagehot.  '  It  is  probable, 
that  if  Butler  hated  anything,  he  hated  his  pen.  Com- 
position is  pleasant  work  for  men  of  ready  words,  fine 
ears,  and  thick-coming  illustrations.  But  Butler,  so 
far  from   having  the   pleasures   of  eloquence,   had   not 


272  BISHOP  BUTLER 

even  the  comfort  of  perspicuity.  In  some  places  the 
mode  of  statement  is  even  stupid  :  it  seems  selected  to 
occasion  a  difficulty.'  And  then  Bagehot  sums  up 
against  Butler  in  these  words  :  '  No  writer  of  equal 
eminence  is  so  defective  as  Butler.  His  thoughts,  if  you 
take  each  one  singly,  seem  to  lose  a  good  deal  from  the 
feeble  and  hesitating  manner  in  which  they  are  stated. 
And  yet,  if  you  read  any  considerable  portion  of  his 
writings,  you  become  sensible  of  a  strong  disinclination 
to  disagree  with  him.'  And  again,  and  much  more 
generously  in  another  book  :  '  There  was  not  a  spark  of 
the  littleness  of  literary  ambition  about  Butler.  There 
is  nothing  light  in  Butler  ;  he  leaves  to  others  all  amusing 
skirmishing  and  superficial  writing.  In  Butler  all  is 
grave,  serious,  and  essential.  Nothing  else  would  be 
characteristic  of  Butler.'  '  The  admirable  arrangement 
of  the  Analogy,'  says  Mark  Pattison,  '  is  all  its  own.  Its 
closely  packed  and  carefully  fitted  order  speaks  of  many 
years'  contrivance.  Its  substance  is  the  thought  of  a 
whole  age,  not  barely  compiled,  but  each  separate 
thought  reconsidered  and  digested.  Every  brick  in  the 
building  has  been  rung  before  it  was  relaid,  and  replaced 
in  its  true  relation  to  the  complex  and  various  whole.' 
'  The  style  of  Butler,'  says  Mr.  Gladstone,  '  has  been 
made  largely  responsible  for  the  difficulties  of  his  subject, 
but  those  who  might  rewrite  one  of  his  pages  would  find 
it  more  difficult  than  they  suppose  to  improve  the  style 
without  impairing  the  substance.'  And  in  direct  con- 
tradiction of  one  of  Bagehot's  charges  against  Butler's 
style,  Mr.  Gladstone  proceeds  :  '  In  his  illustrations 
Butler  is  particularly  happy ;  and  upon  the  whole,  in 
his  case,  and  also  in  that  of  Aristotle,  it  may  be  said  that 
the  style  and  the  substance  cannot  be  parted.'  And 
then,  if  '  a  consciousness  of  what  has  preceded  and  what 


BISHOP  BUTLER  273 

is  to  follow  makes  a  perfect  style,'  as  Jowett  in  his 
introduction  to  the  Laws  says  it  does,  then  Butler's 
rank  as  a  writer  is  secure.  For  never  was  there  a  more 
regular  plan  laid  down  for  any  book,  and  never  had  any 
book  more  consciousness  of  what  had  preceded  and  what 
was  to  follow.  Canon  Spooner  also,  Butler's  latest 
biographer,  has  this  in  his  excellent  little  book  :  '  Is  the 
charge  of  obscurity  that  is  brought  against  Butler  well 
deserved  ?  On  such  a  matter  the  reading  public  is  the 
only  judge.  A  writer  whom  most,  even  intelligent, 
readers  find  obscure,  is  obscure.  Tried  by  this  test, 
Butler  will  almost  certainly  stand  convicted.  But  the 
obscurity  that  exists  is  not  the  obscurity  of  a  loose  and 
confused  thinker.  There  was  nothing  loose  or  confused 
in  Butler's  mind :  quite  the  reverse.  The  difficulty 
of  the  style  arises  from  the  extreme  closeness  and  con- 
tinuity of  the  thoughts.  Still  more  from  the  caution, 
many-sidedness,  and  conscientiousness  of  the  writer 
which  would  leave  no  aspect  of  the  question  unprovided 
for,  no  possible  objection  which  might  be  taken  unmet, 
no  necessary  limitation  unexpressed,  no  possible  mis- 
understanding of  his  meaning  unguarded  against.  A 
man  writing  in  such  a  spirit,  particularly  a  man  of 
Butler's  anxious  and  even  morbidly  conscientious 
temperament,  could  scarcely  attain  to  a  facile  and  un- 
laboured style.  Certainly  Butler  would  have  been  less 
himself  had  his  style  been  less  laboured  :  with  him  even 
more  than  with  most  men,  the  style  is  the  man.' 

It  is  a  study  in  literary  criticism,  as  well  as  in  style,  to 
ponder  these  various  opinions,  and  to  consider  them  in 
relation  to  their  respective  authors,  as  well  as  in  relation 
to  Butler's  style.  It  is  an  excellent  exercise  in  criticism 
and  in  composition  to  watch  in  what,  and  how  far,  his 
critics  coincide  with  one  another,  and  to  discover  how 

s 


274  BISHOP  BUTLER 

they  less,  any  single  one  of  them,  say  the  whole  truth 
about  Butler,  than  make  each  his  own  contribution  to 
the  whole  truth.  For  myself,  I  will  say  in  one  word 
that  the  more  I  read  Butler,  and  the  better  I  understand 
him,  the  more  I  enjoy  his  peculiar  style.  His  style  is 
what  it  is,  to  employ  one  of  his  own  repeated  expressions, 
and  I  would  not  have  it  other  than  it  is.  And  I  most 
heartily  subscribe  to  what  Bishop  Steere  says  so  well 
on  this  same  subject  :  '  In  truth  the  greatest  beauty  in 
any  author's  style  consists  in  its  appropriateness  to 
express  his  meaning.  And  thus  it  is  that  careful  students 
of  Butler's  works  generally  come,  in  the  end,  to  have  a 
sort  of  relish  for  his  peculiar  style.'  I  think  that  is  a 
very  happy  expression  of  Steere's.  '  A  sort  of  relish  ' 
exactly  describes  my  own  enjoyment  of  Butler's  peculiar 
style.  For  there  is  a  certain  dry,  nutty,  oaten  aroma 
that  comes  off  Butler's  page  as  I  read  it ;  not  only  not 
disagreeable,  but  positively  healing,  and  restoring,  and 
strengthening.  Till,  what  with  his  style  and  what  with 
his  substance,  with  all  his  limitations — and  they  are 
neither  few  nor  small — Butler  will  always  remain  one 
of  the  few  first-class  authors  in  the  whole  world  to  me. 

Butler  is  universally  acknowledged  to  be  the  most 
thoughtful  of  all  our  English  theologians  and  moralists. 
Many  English  theologians,  and  moralists,  and  preachers, 
could  be  named  who  far  excelled  Butler  in  other  things. 
Many  were  more  learned,  many  were  more  eloquent,  many 
were  far  more  scriptural,  and  consequently  far  more 
evangelical.  But  Butler  stands  alone  in  his  own  sheer 
power  of  thought,  and  in  his  amazing  power  of  awakening 
thought  in  his  readers.  Hooker  was  far  more  learned 
and  far  more  evangelical.  Taylor  was  far  more  oceani- 
cally   read,    and    his   eloquence    was    without    parallel. 


BISHOP  BUTLER  275 

Edwards's  mind  was  far  more  powerful  than  Butler's 
mind  was  naturally,  and  it  was  simply  seraphically 
sanctified.  While  the  great  English  Puritans  far  eclipsed 
Butler  in  the  apostolicity  and  spirituality  of  their  ministry. 
But  for  plunging  his  readers  into  the  greatest  depths  of 
thought,  Butler  excels  them  all.  Butler  was  like  Pascal 
in  this,  that  he  was  not  at  all  a  wide  reader,  but  was  one 
of  the  princeliest  of  thinkers.  It  was  simply  Butler's 
own  thoughtfulncss,  and  his  power  of  producing  thought- 
fulness,  that  has  called  forth  such  extraordinary  appre- 
ciations and  acknowledgments  as  these :  '  The  most 
original  and  profound  work  extant  in  any  language  on 
the  philosophy  of  religion,'  says  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 
'  I  could  not  write  on  this  or  on  any  other  kindred  sub- 
ject,' says  Bishop  O'Brien,  '  without  a  consciousness 
that  I  was  either  directly  or  indirectly  borrowing  from 
Butler.'  '  I  have  derived  greater  aid  from  the  views 
and  reasonings  of  Butler,'  says  Dr.  Chalmers,  '  than  I 
have  been  able  to  find  besides  in  the  whole  range  of  our 
extant  authorship.'  '  I  am  more  indebted  to  Butler's 
writings  than  I  am  to  any  other  uninspired  author,' 
says  Bishop  Kaye.  '  That  great  and  generative  thinker,' 
says  Maurice.  '  The  greatest  name,'  says  Newman, 
'  in  the  Anglican  Church.'  And  writing  about  books 
to  a  lady,  Newman  says  :  '  I  think  you  will  gain  great 
benefit  on  the  whole  subject  of  ethics  and  religion  from 
Butler's  Analogy.  It  is  a  very  deep  work,  and  while  it 
requires,  it  will  repay  your  attention.'  It  is  no  detraction 
from  Newman's  own  great  fertility  of  mind  to  say  that 
the  reader  of  Butler  and  of  Newman  continually  comes 
on  sentences,  and  clauses  of  sentences,  in  Butler  that 
have  been  the  seed  of  some  of  Newman's  most  famous 
sermons.  And  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  not  a  few 
of    the    sermons    of    Butler's    philosophic    and    eloquent 


276  BISHOP  BUTLER 

Irish  namesake,  as  also  of  some  of  the  best  of  Mozley's 
sermons,  who  has  been  called  the  Butler  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Plato's  discourses  were  so  overladen  with 
thought,  that  when  he  looked  up  after  finishing  one  of 
the  longest  and  deepest  of  them,  all  his  audience  had 
escaped  :  only  Aristotle  was  left  in  the  lecture-room. 
So  Plutarch  tells  us.  And  I  would  not  have  wondered 
to  have  been  told  by  Byrom  that  when  Butler  had 
finished  some  of  his  Rolls  Sermons,  there  was  no  one  left 
in  the  chapel  but  the  Master  of  the  Rolls  and  William 
Law,  in  for  the  forenoon  from  Putney.  '  The  pain  of 
attending  '  is  one  of  Butler's  own  admissions  about  his 
sermons.     But  then,  all  the  pain  is  well  repaid. 

'  A  more  than  ordinary  depth  of  thought  produces  the 
melancholy  temperament,'  says  Jacob  Behmen.  And 
Butler's  deep  melancholy  is  one  of  his  outstanding 
characteristics,  both  as  a  preacher  and  a  philosopher. 
Passages  like  these  occur  continually  in  his  writings. 
'  The  infinite  disorders  of  this  world.'  '  This  world  is 
a  mere  scene  of  distraction.'  '  Instead  of  this  world 
being  what  it  was  intended  to  be,  a  discipline  of  virtue, 
the  generality  of  men  make  it  a  discipline  of  vice.  It 
is  a  state  of  apostasy,  wickedness,  and  ruin.  Men  are 
depraved  creatures,  who  want  to  be  renewed.'  '  If  the 
discoveries  of  men  of  research  tend  in  any  way  to  render 
life  less  unhappy  than  it  is,  then  they  are  most  usefully 
employed.'  Lamentations  like  these  come  out  of  the 
Sermons  and  out  of  the  Analogy  continually,  till  to  say 
Butler  is  to  say  melancholy.  At  the  same  time,  Butler's 
melancholy  is  more  a  philosophical  and  a  speculative 
melancholy  than  a  religious  and  an  experimental  melan- 
choly. There  is  a  far  deeper,  a  far  more  bitter,  and  a 
far  more  inconsolable  melancholy  than  is  that  melancholy 


BISHOP  BUTLER  277 

to  which  Butler,  with  all  his  depth  of  thought,  has  ever 
given  voice.  There  is  a  cup,  '  bitterer  to  drink  than 
blood,'  that  Butler  would  seem  scarcely  ever  to  have 
tasted.  So  far  as  his  Analogy,  or  his  sermons,  or  even 
his  prayers  go,  he  would  seem  to  have  had  little  or  no 
experimental  acquaintance  with  the  unspeakable  melan- 
choly of  such  spiritual  men  as  Behmen,  and  Pascal,  and 
Foster — to  keep  to  some  of  the  men  of  deepest  thought 
that  have  ever  lived.  It  is  always  this  fallen,  and 
corrupt,  and  depraved  world  that  is  the  source  of  Butler's 
melancholy.  It  is  their  own  corrupt  and  depraved  and 
hopeless  hearts  that  is  the  source  of  the  far  deeper  melan- 
choly of  such  men  as  have  been  named  above.  Butler 
is  a  great  '  melancholian,'  but,  all  the  same,  his  great 
melancholy  is  but  philosophical,  and  speculative,  and 
economical :  whereas  the  melancholy  of  Behmen,  and 
Pascal,  and  Foster  is  spiritual,  and  personal,  and  experi- 
mental, and  inconsolable. 

Under  the  head  of  his  mental  qualities  Mr.  Gladstone 
discusses  Butler's  measure,  his  strength  of  tissue,  his 
courage,  his  questionable  theses,  his  imagination,  and 
his  originality.  All  students  of  Butler  should  be  sure 
not  to  miss  what  that  great  statesman  has  to  say  about 
the  mental  qualities  of  his  revered  master.  Contenting 
myself  with  recommending  Gladstone's  third  volume 
to  all  students  of  Butler — and  I  may  add  to  all  students 
of  Gladstone  himself — I  pass  on  to  take  some  notice  of 
what  is  b}'^  far  the  most  serious  complaint  that  has  ever 
been  made  against  Butler.  That  is  to  say,  his  extra- 
ordinary deficiency  m  apostolical  and  evangelical  truth. 
Now,  that  complaint  is  so  serious,  and  is  so  fundamental, 
that  it  must  be  made  by  me  in  the  words  of  one  who 
had  both  the  ability,  and  the  courage,  and  the  loyalty 


278  BISHOP  BUTLER 

to  truth,  to  make  it.  Dr.  Chalmers  shall  speak  for  all 
those  who  agree  with  him  in  his  immense  regret  con- 
cerning Butler's  religion.  Whether  in  praise  or  in 
blame  of  Butler,  as  I  have  already  said,  I  like  to  read 
Dr.  Chalmers  above  all  Butler's  other  editors  and  com- 
mentators. There  is  nothing  to  my  mind  to  compare 
with  Chalmers's  lectures  on  the  Analogy.  That  great 
man  is  so  reverential  to  Butler ;  he  is  so  full  of  noble 
acknowledgment  of  indebtedness  to  his  great  master ; 
and  he  is  so  eloquent  and  impressive  in  expounding  him. 
Let  Dr.  Chalmers  therefore  speak  on  this  distressing  sub- 
ject. '  We  fear,'  says  Chalmers  in  his  fourth  chapter, 
'  that  Butler  here  makes  the  first,  though  not  the  only, 
exhibition  that  occurs  in  his  work,  of  his  meagre  and 
moderate  theology.  Sound  as  his  general  views  were  on 
what  might  be  termed  the  philosophy  of  religion,  this 
formed  no  security  against  the  errors  of  a  lax  and  super- 
ficial creed  on  certain  of  its  specific  doctrines.'  And 
again  :  '  It  were  great  and  unwarrantable  presumption  to 
decide  on  the  personal  Christianity  of  Butler,  but  I  think 
it  but  fair  to  warn  you  that  up  and  down  throughout  the 
volume  there  do  occur  the  symptoms  of  a  heart  not 
thoroughly  evangelised.'  '  I  have  already,'  says  Chalmers 
in  another  place,  '  given  repeated  intimation  that,  viewed 
as  a  Christian  composition,  I  do  not  regard  Butler's 
book  as  being  sufficiently  impregnated  with  the  sal 
evangelicum,  and  that  even  his  own  principles  are  not 
fully  and  practically  carried  out.  Butler  is  like  one  who, 
with  admirable  skill,  lays  down  the  distances  and  the 
directions  of  a  land  into  which  he  has  not  travelled  very 
far  himself.'  Let  any  careful  student  read  Butler's 
Dissertation  on  the  Nature  of  Virtue,  and  then  let  him 
read  Jonathan  Edwards's  treatise  on  the  same  subject, 
and  he  will  see  for  himself  what  it  is  that  Dr.  Chalmers 


BISHOP  BUTLER  279 

complains  of  when  he  says  that  Butler  is  so  afraid  or  so 
incapable  of  becoming  evangelical  that  he  will  not  even 
follow  his  own  principles  fully  and  practically  out. 
Butler  continually  confines  himself  to  the  barely  ethical, 
even  when  his  subject  claims  to  become  spiritual.  He 
will  abide  rigidly  and  severely  philosophical  even  when, 
on  every  ground,  he  should  rise  to  be  apostolical  and 
evangelical.  But  he  never  does  so  rise  :  never  so  much 
as  once.  And  thus  it  is  that  there  is  a  height  and  a 
depth,  a  fragrance,  a  sweetness,  and  a  beauty  about  all 
Edwards's  ethical  work,  of  which  Butler's  very  best  work 
is  wholly  and  blamefully  devoid.  He  defends  himself, 
and  his  out-and-out  eulogists  defend  him,  on  the  plea 
that  he  is  always  arguing,  not  on  his  own  principles,  but 
on  the  principles  of  the  deists,  who  were  his  opponents. 
But  Edwards  argues  not  less  effectually  because  he  lets 
his  great  subject  carry  both  him  and  his  readers  away 
up  to  its  native  heavens.  Edwards  is  only  the  more 
genuinely  and  profoundly  philosophical  that  he  is  so 
seraphically  spiritual ;  and  only  the  more  truly  and 
convincingly  ethical  that  he  is  so  Pauline  in  the  grace 
and  truth  of  his  philosophy  as  well  as  his  theology. 
Wesley's  report  of  his  interview  with  Butler  is  humiliating 
reading.  And  when  it  is  read  alongside  of  Chalmers's 
lectures  on  Butler,  it  is  absolutely  conclusive  as  to 
Butler's  utter  lack  of  sympathy  with  apostolic  and 
evangelic  preaching,  even  when  he  could  not  but  see  the 
miracles  that  such  preaching  was  working  in  his  own 
diocese.  Mr.  Gladstone  is  driven  to  think  that  the 
interview  between  the  Bishop  and  the  great  Gospel 
preacher  cannot  be  correctly  reported  in  Wesley's 
Journal.  I  wish  I  could  believe  that.  For,  with  all  his 
shortcomings  on  the  most  important  of  all  matters,  I 
love  and  honour  Butler  more  than  I  can  tell.     The  truth 


280  BISHOP  BUTLER 

is,  with  all  his  greatness,  Butler  falls  far  short  of  the 
greatest.  Many  an  author,  many  a  preacher,  many  an 
unlettered  believer,  who  was  not  talented  enough  to  read 
what  Butler  had  written,  could  have  taken  him  and 
taught  him  the  way  of  God  more  perfectly,  as  Aquila 
and  Priscilla  taught  Apollos.  It  is  a  mystery  to  me  how 
such  a  deep-seeing  man,  and  such  a  fearless  and  honest 
man,  and  such  a  serious-minded  man  as  Butler  was 
could  have  lived  and  died  contented  with  such  an 
emasculated  and  meagre  gospel  as  that  of  the  Sermons 
and  the  Analogy.  It  would  be  a  mystery  did  we  not 
see  the  same  mystery  every  day.  But  we  have  only 
too  good  evidence  that  Butler  did  not  either  live  or  die 
contented.  As  to  his  death,  a  delightful  narrative  is 
given  of  the  Bishop's  last  moments,  a  narrative  that 
carries  its  truth  on  the  face  of  it,  and  a  narrative  we 
would  not  have  wanted  for  anything.  When  Butler 
lay  on  his  deathbed  he  called  for  his  chaplain  and  said  to 
him  :  '  Though  I  have  endeavoured  to  avoid  sin,  and  to 
please  God  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  yet,  from  the 
consciousness  of  perpetual  infirmities,  I  am  still  afraid 
to  die.'  '  My  lord,'  said  the  chaplain, '  you  have  forgotten 
that  Jesus  Christ  is  a  Saviour.'  '  True,'  said  Butler, 
'  but  how  shall  I  know  He  is  a  Saviour  for  me  ?  '  '  My 
lord,  it  is  written,  "  Him  that  cometh  unto  Me,  I  will  in 
nowise  cast  out."  '  '  True,'  said  Butler,  '  and  I  am 
surprised  that  though  I  have  read  that  Scripture  a 
thousand  times  over,  I  never  felt  its  virtue  till  this 
inoment.     And  now  I  die  happy.' 

'A  mighty  prelate  on  his  deathbed  lay, 

Revolving  the  dread  themes  of  life  and  death 
And  their  stupendous  issues,  with  dismay, 

His  marvellous  powers  nigh  quenched.     "  My  lord,"  one 
saithj 


BISHOP  BUTLER  281 

"  Hast  thou  forgotten  how  Christ  came  to  be 

A  Saviour?"     "Nay/'  the  bishop  made  reply, 
"  How  know  I  He's  a  Saviour  unto  me}" 

The  chaplain  paused,  then  answered  thoughtfully  : 
"  '  Lo,  him  that  cometh  unto  Me,'  Christ  said, 

'  I  will  in  nowise  cast  out,'  need  we  more?" 
The  bishop  slowly  raised  his  dying  head  : 

"I've  read  a  thousand  times  that  Scripture  o'er 
Nor  felt  its  truth  till  now  I  near  the  tomb  ; 

It  is  enough,  O  mighty  Christ,  I  come."  ' 


CARDINAL    NEWMAN 

Writing  about  himself  in  the  third  person,  Cardinal 
Newman  says  in  the  beginning  of  his  Autobiographical 
Memoirs  :  '  John  Henry  Newman  was  born  in  Old 
Broad  Street,  in  the  city  of  London,  on  February  21, 
1801,  and  was  baptized  in  the  Church  of  St.  Benet  Fink 
on  April  9  of  the  same  year.  His  father  was  a  London 
banker,  whose  family  came  from  Cambridgeshire.  His 
mother  was  of  a  French  Protestant  family,  who  left 
France  for  this  country  on  the  revocation  of  the  Edict 
of  Nantes.  He  was  the  eldest  of  six  children — three 
boys  and  three  girls.  On  May  1,  1808,  when  he  was 
seven  years  old,  he  was  sent  to  a  school  of  two  hundred 
boys,  at  Ealing,  near  London,  under  the  care  of  the  Rev. 
George  Nicholas,  D.C.L.,  of  Wadham  College,  Oxford. 
As  a  child  Newman  was  of  a  studious  turn  and  of  a  quick 
apprehension  ;  and  Dr.  Nicholas,  to  whom  he  became 
greatly  attached,  was  accustomed  to  say  that  no  boy 
had  run  through  the  school,  from  the  bottom  to  the 
top,  as  rapidly  as  John  Newman.  Though  in  no  respect 
a  precocious  boy,  he  attempted  original  compositions 
in  prose  and  verse  from  the  age  of  eleven,  and  in  prose 
showed  a  great  sensibility,  and  took  much  pains  in 
matter  of  style.  He  devoted  to  such  literary  exercises, 
and  to  such  books  as  came  in  his  way,  a  good  portion  of 
his  playtime  ;  and  his  schoolfellows  have  left  on  record 
that  they  never,  or  scarcely  ever,  saw  him  taking  part 

283 


284  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

in  any  game.  In  the  last  half-year  of  his  school  life  he 
fell  under  the  influence  of  an  excellent  man,  the  Rev. 
Walter  Mayer,  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford,  one  of  the 
classical  masters,  from  whom  he  received  deep  religious 
impressions,  at  the  time  Calvinistic  in  character,  which 
were  to  him  the  beginning  of  a  new  life.' 

Turning  now  to  the  Apologia  we  read  as  follows,  this 
time  in  the  first  person  :  '  I  was  brought  up  from  a 
child  to  take  gTcat  delight  in  reading  the  Bible  ;  but  I 
had  no  formed  religious  convictions  till  I  was  fifteen. 
Of  course,  I  had  perfect  knowledge  of  my  Catechism. 
.  .  .  When  I  was  fifteen  a  great  change  of  thought  took 
place  in  me.  I  fell  under  the  influences  of  a  definite 
Creed,  and  received  into  my  intellect  impressions  of 
dogma,  which,  through  God's  mercy,  have  never  been 
effaced  or  obscured.  Above  and  beyond  the  conversations 
and  sermons  of  the  excellent  man,  long  dead,  who  was 
the  human  means  of  this  beginning  of  divine  faith  in 
me,  was  the  effect  of  the  books  which  he  put  into  my 
hands,  all  of  the  school  of  Calvin.  ...  I  was  then,  and 
I  still  am,  more  certain  of  my  inward  conversion  than 
that  I  have  hands  and  feet.  My  conversion  was  such 
that  it  made  me  rest  in  the  thought  of  two  and  two 
only  supreme  and  luminously  self-evident  beings,  myself 
and  my  Creator.  ...  I  am  obliged  to  mention,  though 
I  do  it  with  great  reluctance,  a  deep  imagination  which, 
in  the  autumn  of  1816,  took  possession  of  me, — there 
can  be  no  mistake  about  the  fact ; — viz.  that  it  was  the 
will  of  God  that  I  should  lead  a  single  life.  This  antici- 
pation, which  has  held  its  ground  almost  continuously 
ever  since, — with  the  break  of  a  month  now  and  then, 
up  to  1829,  and,  after  that  date,  without  any  break  at 
all, — was  more  or  less  connected,  in  my  mind,  with  the 
notion   that  my  calling  in  life  would  require    such  a 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  285 

sacrifice  as  celibacy  involved  :  as,  for  instance,  missionary 
work  among  the  heathen,  to  which  I  had  a  great  drawing 
for  some  years.'      And  so  on,  in  that  so  fascinating  book. 

Newman  has  a  very  characteristic  sermon  in  his 
series  of  University  Sermons,  entitled  '  Personal  In- 
fluence '  ;  and  all  his  days  he  was  his  own  best  example 
of  that  kind  of  influence,  both  as  experiencing  it  and  as 
exercising  it.  So  much  so,  that  from  the  day  he  entered 
Oxford  his  biography  is  really  the  history  of  the  personal 
influences  that  were  poured  in  continually,  and  some- 
times unaccountably,  upon  his  susceptible  mind  and 
heart.  Richard  Whately  was,  at  that  time,  one  of  the 
ruling  influences  of  Oxford,  and  his  moulding  hand  was 
at  once  laid  on  the  impressible  freshman,  John  Henry 
Newman,  '  If  there  was  a  man,'  says  Newman,  '  easy 
for  a  raw  youth  to  get  on  with,  it  was  Whately — a  great 
talker,  who  endured  very  readily  the  silence  of  his 
company  ;  original  in  his  views,  lively,  forcible,  witty 
in  expressing  them  ;  brimful  of  information  on  a  variety 
of  subjects.  The  worst  that  could  be  said  of  Whately 
was  that,  in  his  intercourse  with  his  friends,  he  was  a 
bright  June  sun  tempered  by  a  March  north-easter.' 

Whately  was  not  long  in  discovering  that  Newman 
was  a  youth  full  of  all  kinds  of  ability,  and  for  a  time 
Whately  and  Newman  were  on  the  very  best  of  terms. 
Whatcly's  powerful  mind,  great  learning,  commanding 
manner,  and  high  position,  all  combined  to  make  him 
a  tower  of  strength  around  his  sensitive,  shy,  and  self- 
conscious  young  friend.  As  time  went  on,  Whately 
began  to  share  some  of  his  literary  work  with  Newman, 
and  in  that,  and  in  not  a  few  other  things,  Whately 
treated  Newman  as  if  he  were  already  a  colleague  and  an 
equal,  rather  than  a  junior  and  a  subordinate.  And, 
altogether,  Newman  had  good  reason  to  reckon  Whately, 


286  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

as  he  always  did,  as  one  of  the  best  influences  of  his 
early  Oxford  life.  At  the  same  time,  it  was  impossible 
that  Whatcly  and  Newman  could  for  very  long  continue 
to  act  together,  more  esjDecially  in  their  religious  and 
ecclesiastical  relations.  And  the  more  that  Whately 
helped  forward  the  development  and  the  independence 
of  Newman's  mind  and  character,  the  more  the  inevitable 
breach  between  the  two  so  different  men  was  hastened, 
not  to  say,  precipitated.  But  let  Newman  sum  up  this 
early  Oxford  relationship  in  his  own  inimitable  way  : 
'  In  1822  I  came  under  very  different  influences  from 
those  to  which  I  had  been  hitherto  subjected.  At  that 
time  Mr.  Whately,  as  he  was  then,  afterwards  Archbishop 
of  Dublin,  showed  great  kindness  to  me.  ...  I  owe  Dr. 
Whately  a  great  deal.  He  was  a  man  of  generous  and 
warm  heart.  He  was  particularly  loyal  to  his  friends, 
and  to  use  the  common  phrase,  all  his  geese  Avere  swans. 
While  I  was  still  awkward  and  timid  in  1822,  he  took  me 
by  the  hand,  and  acted  the  part  to  me  of  a  gentle  and 
encouraging  instructor.  He,  emphatically,  opened  my 
mind,  and  taught  me  to  think  and  to  use  my  reason. 
After  being  first  noticed  by  him  in  1822,  I  became  very 
intimate  with  him  in  1825,  when  I  was  his  Vice-Principal 
in  Alban  Hall.  I  gave  up  that  office  in  1826,  when  I 
became  Tutor  of  my  College,  and  his  hold  upon  mc 
gradually  relaxed.  He  had  done  his  whole  work  toward 
me  or  nearly  so,  when  he  had  taught  me  to  see  with  my 
own  eyes  and  to  walk  with  my  own  feet,  .  .  .  Dr. 
Whately's  mind  was  too  different  from  mine  for  us  to 
remain  long  on  one  line.  ...  I  believe  that  he  has 
inserted  sharp  things  in  his  later  works  about  me.  They 
have  never  come  in  my  way,  and  I  have  not  thought  it 
necessary  to  seek  out  what  would  pain  me  so  much  in 
the  reading.'     That  passage  on  Whately's  influence  on 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  287 

Newman  will  be  best  wound  up  with  this  characteristic 
postscript  to  a  very  painful  correspondence  that  took 
place  long  afterwards  between  Newman  and  his  old 
Oriel  friend  :  '  May  I  be  suffered  to  add,  that  your  name 
is  ever  mentioned  in  my  prayers,  and  to  subscribe  myself 
your  Grace's  very  sincere  friend  and  servant,  John 
Henry  Newman.' 

But  by  far  the  most  powerful  personal  influence  that 
laid  hold  of  Newman  in  those  impressible  days  of  his  was 
that  of  Hurrell  Froude.  Froude's  personal  friends  are 
all  at  one  in  their  love  for  him  and  in  their  admiration 
of  his  talents  and  his  character.  At  the  same  time,  as 
to  the  true  value  of  Froude's  influence  on  Newman, 
men's  judgments  will  vary  according  to  their  ecclesiastical 
and  religious  principles.  Those  who  lean  to  Rome, 
and  who  look  with  approval  on  the  introduction  of 
Romish  doctrines  and  practices  into  the  Church  of 
England,  will  see  nothing  but  good  in  Froude's  immense 
influence  over  Newman.  Whereas,  those  who  stand 
fast  in  the  Apostolical  and  Reformed  and  Evangelical  faith 
will  bitterly  lament  that  Froude  and  Newman  ever  met. 
Newman's  portrait  of  his  friend  is  one  of  the  shining  char- 
acterisations in  a  book  full  of  such  : — 

'  I  knew  Froude  first  in  1826,  and  was  in  the  closest 
and  most  affectionate  friendship  with  him  from  about 
1829  till  his  death  in  1836.  He  was  a  man  of  the  highest 
gifts, — so  truly  many-sided,  that  it  would  be  presumptu- 
ous in  me  to  attempt  to  describe  him,  except  under  those 
aspects  in  which  he  came  before  me.  Nor  have  I  here 
to  speak  of  the  gentleness  and  tenderness  of  nature,  the 
playfulness,  the  free  elastic  force  and  graceful  versatility 
of  mind,  and  the  patient  winning  considerateness  in 
discussion,  which  endeared  him  to  those  to  whom  he 
opened  his   heart ;     for   I   am   all   along   engaged  upon 


288  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

matters  of  belief  and  opinion,  and  am  introducing  others 
into  my  narrative,  not  for  their  own  sake,  or  because  I 
love  and  have  loved  them,  so  much  as  because,  and  so 
far  as,  they  have  influenced  my  theological  views.  .  .  . 
Dying  prematurely,  as  he  did,  and  in  the  conflict  and 
transition-state  of  opinion,  his  religious  views  never 
reached  their  ultimate  conclusion,  by  the  very  reason  of 
their  multitude  and  their  depth.  ...  It  is  difficult  to 
enumerate  the  precise  additions  to  my  theological  creed 
which  I  derived  from  a  friend  to  whom  I  owe  so  much. 
He  taught  me  to  look  with  admiration  towards  the 
Church  of  Rome,  and  in  the  same  degree  to  dislike  the 
Reformation.  He  fixed  deep  in  me  the  idea  of  devotion 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  he  led  me  gradually  to  believe 
in  the  Real  Presence.'  And  on  Froude's  death  in  1836 
Newman  wrote :  '  I  can  never  have  a  greater  loss, 
looking  on  for  the  whole  of  my  life.  I  never,  on  the 
whole,  fell  in  with  so  gifted  a  person.  In  variety  and 
perfection  of  gifts  I  think  he  far  exceeded  even  Keble. 
For  myself,  I  cannot  describe  what  I  owe  to  him — as 
regards  the  intellectual  principles,  the  philosophy  of 
religion  and  morals.' 

As  to  Froude  having  taught  Newman  to  dislike  the 
Reformation,  Mr.  Gladstone,  while  in  many  things 
admiring  Froude  and  sympathising  with  him,  says  that 
he  is  compelled  to  admit  and  lament  Froude's  '  glaring, 
if  not  almost  scandalous  disparagement  of  the  Reformers.' 
And  on  Froude's  whole  character,  as  seen  in  his  History 
and  as  studied  in  his  writings,  Isaac  Taylor,  one  of  the 
most  moderately  spoken  of  all  the  critics  of  the  Tractarian 
Movement,  calls  Froude's  Remains  a  most  offensive 
book,  and  describes  Froude  himself  as  the  unhappy 
victim  of  a  singularly  malign  temperament,  and  of  a 
pernicious  training.     He  denounces  also  the  sombre  and 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  289 

venomous  flippancies  of  Froude's  published  Journal, 
As  to  what  Newman  suggests  to  his  readers  in  saying  that 
Froude  died  before  his  reUgious  views  had  reached  their 
ultimate  conclusion,  Isaac  Williams  has  this  in  his 
clear-headed  and  honest-spoken  Autobiography  :  '  Many 
have  imagined,  and  Newman  endeavoured  to  persuade 
himself,  that  if  Froude  had  lived  he  would  have  joined 
the  Church  of  Rome  as  well  as  himself.  But  this  I  do 
not  at  all  think.  And  I  find  that  John  Keble  and  others 
quite  agree  with  me  that  there  was  that  in  Hurrell  Froude 
that  he  could  not  have  joined  the  Church  of  Rome.  I 
had  always  full  confidence  in  Froude,'  adds  Isaac  Williams. 
A  far  more  sweet  and  genial  influence  than  that  of 
Froude,  though  an  influence  that  did  almost  more  than 
that  of  Froude  to  smooth  Newman's  way  to  Rome,  was 
that  of  John  Keble.  '  Do  you  know  the  story  of  the 
murderer,'  Froude  asks,  '  who  had  done  one  good  deed 
in  his  life  ?  Well,  if  I  were  asked  what  good  deed  I  had 
ever  done,  I  would  say  that  I  had  brought  Keble  and 
Newman  to  understand  each  other.'  John  Keble  had 
won  an  immense  reputation  at  Oxford,  but  great  honours 
were  never  worn  with  a  more  lowly  mind  than  were 
Keble's  college  honours.  He  left  the  University  with 
the  greatest  prospects  just  opening  before  him,  and 
went  to  assist  his  father  in  his  parish  work  as  a  pastor. 
As  to  Keble's  devoted  and  all-absorbing  churchmanship, 
it  was  as  indisputable  as  was  his  scholarship.  In  his 
brilliant  sketch  of  Keble,  Dean  Church  tells  us  that 
Keble  '  looked  with  great  and  intelligent  dislike  at  the 
teaching  and  the  practical  working  of  the  Evangelical 
Christianity '  around  him,  and  that  '  his  loyalty  to  the 
Church  of  England  was  profound  and  intense.  He  was 
a  strong  Tory,  and  by  conviction  and  religious  temper 
a  thorough  High  Churchman.'     Froude  had  been  Keble's 


290  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

pupil  at  Oriel,  and  when  Keble  left  Oriel  for  his  curacy, 
he  took  Froude  with  him  to  read  for  his  degree.  And 
not  only  did  Froude  read  under  Keble,  but  from  that 
time  Keble  gained  in  Froude  a  disciple  who  was  to  be 
the  mouthpiece  and  the  champion  of  his  High  Church 
ideas.  Froude  took  in  from  Keble  all  he  had  to  com- 
municate, Dean  Church  tells  us — '  principles,  convictions, 
moral  rules  and  standards  of  life,  hopes,  fears,  anti- 
pathies.' A  story  is  told  to  the  effect  that  Keble  before 
parting  with  Froude  one  day,  seemed  to  have  something 
on  his  mind  ;  and  as  Froude  stepped  into  the  coach, 
Keble  said  to  him,  '  Froude,  you  said  to-day  that  you 
thought  Law's  Serious  Call  a  very  clever  book ;  it 
seemed  to  me  almost  as  if  you  had  said  that  the  Day 
of  Judgment  would  be  a  very  pretty  sight.'  Froude  all 
his  days  acknowledged  the  deep  impression  that  these 
words  of  Keble  made  upon  him.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
William  Law  was  one  of  Froude's  favourite  authors 
all  his  days,  and  the  same  masterly  writer  was  one  of 
Keble's  favourite  authors  also. 

Keble's  immense  influence  on  Newman  is  traced  both 
by  Newman  himself,  and  by  all  the  writers  of  authority 
on  that  time,  to  two  things — to  the  influence  of  Keble 
upon  Froude,  and  to  Tlie  Christian  Year.  Hursley  has 
produced  two  very  influential  books  in  its  time,  which 
are  as  diametrically  removed  from  one  another,  not  to 
say  as  diametrically  opposed  to  one  another,  as  could 
possibly  be  found  in  the  whole  spacious  circle  of  Christian 
literature.  The  one  book  is  a  Puritan  classic,  and  the 
other  is  an  Anglican  classic.  The  one  is  a  treatise  in 
strong  old  Enghsh  prose,  and  the  other  is  a  volume  of 
sweet,  somewhat  sentimental,  somewhat  ecclesiastical, 
but  always  devout  and  always  beautiful,  poetry.  The 
one  is  a  very  masterpiece  of  the  soul  under  the  deepest 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  291 

spiritual  sanctification,  and  the  other  is  an  acknow- 
ledged masterpiece  of  an  Englishman's  religion  under 
the  English  obedience  and  discipline.  '  Keble,'  wrote 
Newman  satirically  in  his  Church  of  Rome  days,  '  did 
that  for  the  Church  of  England  which  none  but  a  poet 
could  do  :  he  made  it  poetical.'  Keble's  own  con- 
demnation of  The  Christian  Year  in  after  days  may  well 
bewilder  his  biographer.  Dr.  Abbott  traces  this  state 
of  mind  in  Keble  to  the  malign  influence  of  Newman 
upon  him.  Be  that  as  it  may,  few,  I  fear,  have  the 
catholicity  of  training,  and  the  taste  and  the  temper, 
to  make  to  themselves  classics  of  both  those  Hursley 
books,  though  both  books  are  real  classics,  each  in  its 
own  kind.  The  Christian  Year  is  in  a  multitude  of 
scholarly  and  beautifully  got-up  editions,  and  The 
Gospel  Mystery  is  in  not  a  few  somewhat  poor  and  mean- 
looking  editions.  My  favourite  copy  of  The  Gospel 
Mystery,  which  I  have  read  as  often  as  Jowett  had  read 
Boswell,  if  not  as  often  as  President  Roosevelt  has  read 
Plutarch,  is  of  the  fourteenth  edition,  and  bears  the  date 
of  1819.  Dr.  Andrew  Murray  of  South  Africa  has  lately 
published  with  Messrs.  Nisbet  an  admirably  introduced 
edition  of  Marshall  at  a  shilling.  And  the  purchaser  who 
answers  to  the  advertisement  for  him  on  the  title-page, 
and  who  once  reads  Marshall,  will  never  cease  reading 
him  till,  as  Keble  says,  '  time  and  sin  together  cease.' 
But  after  this  parenthesis,  which,  at  the  same  time,  is 
of  more  importance  than  the  proper  text,  let  me  supply 
you  with  one  more  passage  out  of  the  Apologia  about 
the  author  of  The  Christian  Year,  and  his  immense 
influence  on  Newman  :  '  The  true  and  primary  author 
of  the  Tractarian  Movement,  as  is  usual  with  great 
motive-powers,  was  out  of  sight.  Having  carried  off 
as  a  mere  boy  the  highest  honours  of  the  University,  he 


292  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

had  turned  from  the  admiration  which  haunted  his 
steps,  and  had  sought  for  a  better  and  hoHer  satisfaction 
in  pastoral  work  in  the  country.  Need  I  say  that  I 
am  speaking  of  John  Keble  ?  .  .  .  The  Christian  Year 
made  its  appearance  in  1827.  It  is  not  necessary,  and 
scarcely  becoming,  to  praise  a  book  which  has  already 
become  one  of  the  classics  of  the  language.  .  .  .  Nor 
can  I  pretend  to  analyse,  in  my  own  instance,  the  effect 
of  religious  teaching  so  deep,  so  pure,  so  beautiful.  The 
two  main  intellectual  truths  which  it  brought  home  to 
me  I  had  already  learned  from  Butler :  the  first  of  these 
may  be  called,  in  a  large  sense,  the  Sacramental  system, 
and  the  other  that  probability  is  the  guide  of  life.' 
Every  one  who  is  acquainted  with  Newman's  works 
will  remember  how  those  two  principles,  first  implanted 
by  Butler,  and  then  watered  by  Keble,  grew  till  they 
cover  with  their  branches  and  with  their  leaves  and 
with  their  fruits  the  whole  broad  expanse  of  Newman's 
philosophical,  ecclesiastical,  and  religious  writings. 

The  Tractarian  Movement  was  well  advanced  before 
Dr.  Pusey  joined  it.  But  his  accession  to  the  movement 
immediately  gave  it  an  immense  impulse.  '  Towards 
the  end  of  1834,'  says  Dean  Church,  '  and  in  the  course 
of  1835,  an  event  happened  which  had  a  great  and 
decisive  influence  on  the  character  and  fortunes  of  the 
movement.  This  was  the  accession  to  it  of  Dr.  Pusey. 
He  had  looked  favourably  on  it  from  the  first,  partly 
from  his  friendship  with  Mr.  Newman,  partly  from  the 
workings  of  his  own  mind.'  But  I  am  always  glad  when 
I  can  set  aside  every  other  authority,  even  Church  and 
Mozley,  and  open  the  Apologia.  And  on  opening  that 
peerless  book  at  this  point,  I  read  :  '  It  was  under  these 
circumstances  that  Dr.  Pusey  joined  us.  I  had  known 
him  well  since  1827-8,  and  had  felt  for  him  an  enthusiastic 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  293 

admiration,  I  used  to  call  him  6  fieya'i.  His  great 
learning,  his  immense  diligence,  his  scholarlike  mind, 
his  simple  devotion  to  the  cause  of  religion,  overcame 
me  ;  and  great  of  course  was  my  joy  when,  in  the  last 
days  of  1833,  he  showed  a  disposition  to  make  common 
cause  with  us.  .  .  .  He  at  once  gave  us  a  position  and 
a  name.  Dr.  Pusey  was  a  Professor  and  Canon  of  Christ 
Church  ;  he  had  a  vast  influence  in  consequence  of  his 
deep  religious  seriousness,  the  munificence  of  his  charities, 
his  Professorship,  his  family  connections,  and  his  easy 
relations  with  University  authorities.  .  .  .  Dr.  Pusey 
was,  to  use  the  common  expression,  a  host  in  himself ; 
he  was  able  to  give  a  name,  a  form,  and  a  personality, 
to  what  was  without  him  a  sort  of  mob.  .  .  .  People  are 
apt  to  say  that  he  was  once  nearer  the  Catholic  Church 
than  he  is  now.  I  pray  God  that  he  may  be  one  day  far 
nearer  that  Church  than  he  was  then  ;  for  I  believe  that, 
in  his  reason  and  judgment,  all  the  time  that  I  knew 
him,  he  never  was  near  to  it  at  all.' 

Pusey,  as  well  as  Newman,  had  already  passed  through 
some  very  remarkable  changes  in  his  theological  views. 
He  had  spent  some  time  in  Germany,  and  on  his  return 
to  England  he  had  published  a  treatise  full  of  promise  in 
defence  of  the  liberal  theologians  and  liberal  theology  of 
Germany.  He  afterwards  withdrew  that  book,  and  it 
is  now  very  little  known.  But  as  I  read  that  long- 
denied  and  forgotten  Essay,  I  see  nothing  in  it,  at  any 
rate  in  its  demand  for  freedom  in  Biblical  studies,  of 
which  any  High  Churchman,  or  any  one  else,  need  be 
ashamed.  Indeed,  I  am  not  sure  but  that  it  will  yet  be 
pronounced  to  be  the  best  book  that  its  learned  author 
ever  wrote.  At  any  rate,  there  is  a  strength  in  it,  and  a 
sanity,  and  a  true  catholicity,  that  are  not  always 
exhibited  in  Pusey's  later  writings.     I  could  quote  page 


294  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

after  page  out  of  this  repudiated  book  of  the  profoundest 
insight  into  many  still-pressing  problems  of  Biblical 
criticism  ;  pages  that,  had  their  author  stood  true  to 
them,  and  had  he  gone  on  to  unite  to  them  all  his  piety, 
and  all  his  learning,  and  all  his  well-earned  influence  in 
the  Church  of  England,  would  have  done  much  to  pre- 
pare the  way  for  that  combination  of  orthodox  doctrine 
with  the  foremost  scholarship,  which  our  own  Church  in 
Scotland,  as  well  as  Pusey's  Church  in  England,  are  still 
painfully  seeking  to  attain.  But  instead  of  becoming 
what  at  one  time  Pusey  gave  promise  to  become,  he  fell 
back  into  Tractarianism,  and  became  another  instance 
of  a  great  and  good  man  making  the  grand  refusal. 

Such,  then,  were  the  three  remarkable  men  to  whom 
Newman,  in  his  humility,  makes  such  handsome  and 
honest  acknowledgment.  But  the  real  truth  in  that 
whole  matter  is  told  about  all  those  four  men,  and  their 
relations  to  one  another,  in  this  final  and  unchallenge- 
able judgment  of  James  Anthony  Froude  :  '  Far  different 
from  Keble,  from  my  brother,  from  Dr.  Pusey,  from  all 
the  rest,  was  the  true  chief  of  the  Cathohc  revival — 
John  Henry  Newman.  Compared  with  him,  they  all 
were  but  ciphers,  and  he  the  indicating  number.'  At 
the  same  time,  we  find  the  historian  writing  about  his 
brother  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  for  1879  in  these 
strong  terms  :  '  I  look  back  upon  my  brother  as  on  the 
whole  the  most  remarkable  man  I  have  ever  met  with 
in  my  life.  I  have  never  seen  any  person — not  one,  in 
whom,  as  I  now  think  of  him,  the  excellences  of  intellect 
and  character  were  combined  in  fuller  measure.'  Some 
forty  years  after  their  first  meeting,  in  a  letter  to  Newman 
now  in  the  Oratory  at  Birmingham,  and  written  in  refer- 
ence to  a  chance  meeting  of  Newman  and  Pusey  and 
Kcble  at  Hursley,  Keble  sent  these  lines  : — 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  295 

'  When  shall  we  three  meet  again  ? 
When  the  hurley-burley  's  done. 
When  the  battle's  lost  and  won.' 

And  may  I  not  add  from  Keble  himself  : — 

'  And  sometimes  even  beneath  the  moon 
The  Saviour  gives  a  gracious  boon. 

When  reconciled  Christians  meet, 
And  face  to  face,  and  heart  to  heart. 
High  thoughts  of  holy  love  impart 

In  silence  meek  or  converse  sweet.' 

In  the  month  of  December  1832  Archdeacon  Froude, 
taking  his  son  Hurrell  and  Newman  with  him,  set  out  to 
the  south  of  Europe  in  search  of  health  for  the  two  young 
divines.  Hurrell  Froude  was  far  gone  in  a  consumption, 
and  Newman's  health  had  suffered  severely  from  the 
labour  involved  in  the  composition  of  his  book  on  the 
Arians.  Condensed  as  is  Newman's  account  of  their  tour 
in  the  Apologia,  I  must  condense  it  still  more.  The  full 
narrative  is  given,  as  only  he  could  give  it,  in  his  corre- 
spondence published  by  his  sister,  Mrs.  Mozley.  But 
I  quote  and  condense  from  the  Apologia  :  '  We  set  out 
in  December  1832.  It  was  during  this  expedition  that 
my  verses  which  are  in  the  Lyra  Aposiolica  were  written. 
Exchanging  as  I  was  definite  tutorial  work,  and  the 
literary  quiet  and  pleasant  friendships  of  the  last  six 
years,  for  foreign  countries  and  an  unknown  future,  I 
naturally  was  led  to  think  that  some  inward  changes, 
as  well  as  some  larger  course  of  action,  were  coming  upon 
me.  The  strangeness  of  foreign  life  threw  me  back 
upon  myself  :  I  found  pleasure  in  historical  sights  and 
scenes,  not  in  men  and  manners.  We  kept  clear  of 
Catholics  throughout  our  tour.  My  general  feeling  was 
— "  All,  save  the  spirit  of  man,  is  divine."  I  saw  nothing 
but  what  was  external ;    of  the  hidden  life  of  Catholics 


296  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

I  knew  nothing.  I  was  still  more  driven  back  upon 
myself,  and  felt  my  isolation.  England  was  in  my 
thoughts  solely,  and  the  news  from  England  came  rarely 
and  imperfectly.  The  Bill  for  the  Suppression  of  Irish 
Sees  was  in  progress,  and  filled  my  mind.  I  had  fierce 
thoughts  against  the  Liberals.  It  was  at  Rome  that  we 
began  the  Lyra  Apostolica.  The  motto  shows  the  feeling 
of  both  Froude  and  myself  at  the  time.  We  borrowed 
from  Bunsen  a  Homer,  and  Froude  chose  the  words  in 
which  Achilles,  on  returning  to  the  battle,  says,  "  You 
shall  know  the  difference,  now  that  I  am  back  again." 
I  was  aching  to  get  home.  At  last  I  got  off  in  an  orange 
boat,  bound  for  Marseilles.  Then  it  was  that  I  wrote 
the  lines  "  Lead,  kindly  Light,"  which  have  since  become 
well  known.  When  I  reached  my  mother's  house,  my 
brother  Frank  had  arrived  from  Persia  only  a  few  hours 
before.  This  was  the  Tuesday.  The  following  Sunday, 
July  14th,  Mr.  Keble  preached  the  Assize  Sermon  in  the 
University  pulpit.  It  was  published  under  the  title  of 
"  National  Apostasy."  I  have  ever  considered  and 
kept  the  day  as  the  start  of  the  religious  movement  of 
1833.'  With  all  that,  thirty  years  after,  Keble  whispered 
to  Newman  of  that  very  National  Apostasy,  "  But  was 
it  not  just  and  right  ?  "  ' 

As  we  have  seen,  Newman  has  said  that  John  Keble 
was  the  true  and  primary  author  of  the  Tractarian 
Movement.  Be  that  as  it  may,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  idea  of  the  Tracts  originated  with  Keble.  In  a 
private  letter  of  Keble's  we  find  the  first  intimation  of 
what  Thomas  Mozley  has  called  '  that  portentous  birth 
of  time,  the  Tracts  for  the  Times.'  '  To  give  you  a  notion 
of  the  kind  of  thing,'  writes  Keble,  '  the  first  tract  we 
propose  to  print  will  be  a  penny  account  of  the  martyr- 
dom of  St.   Ignatius,   with  extracts  from  his  Epistles. 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  297 

Pray  do  not  blow  on  it  as  being  all  ultra.'  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  when  the  first  tract  actuaUy  came  out,  it  showed 
to  all  who  had  eyes  to  read  it  that  a  very  different  hand 
from  that  of  Keble  was  to  be  on  the  helm  of  the  new 
enterprise.  Newman  wrote  the  first  tract  with  his  own 
pen  under  the  name  of  '  A  Presbyter,'  and  the  full  title 
of  the  tract  was  this,  '  Thoughts  on  the  Ministerial 
Commission,  respectfully  addressed  to  the  Clergy.'  The 
famous  series  thus  begun  ran  on  from  the  9th  September 
1833  till  the  Feast  of  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul,  1841, 
during  which  years  ninety  tracts  were  published,  varying 
in  size  from  four  pages  to  an  octavo  volume.  Newman 
wrote  twenty-seven  numbers  out  of  the  ninety,  Keble 
twelve,  and  Pusey  eight,  but  Pusey's  characteristic  con- 
tributions were  large  treatises  rather  than  handy  tracts. 
The  rest  of  the  ninety  tracts  were  either  written  by  men 
whose  names  you  would  not  recognise,  or  they  were 
compilations  and  extracts  out  of  such  writers  as  Bull, 
and  Beveridge,  and  Wilson.  The  substance  of  the 
tracts  was  wholly  limited  to  what  is  known  as  High 
Church  doctrine.  The  tracts  are  full  of  the  privileges 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  her  ministry,  her  sacraments, 
and  the  discipline  to  which  her  priesthood  and  her  people 
ought  to  submit  themselves.  '  Their  distinctive  speech,' 
says  Mr.  Gladstone,  '  was  of  Church  and  Priesthood,  of 
Sacraments  and  Services.'  And,  as  was  to  be  expected, 
there  runs  through  the  whole  series  a  great  scorn  of 
evangelical  preaching,  and  a  great  contempt  toward 
every  minister  of  the  Church  of  Christ  who  is  not  a  priest, 
either  of  the  Greek,  or  the  Roman,  or  the  Anglican, 
obedience.  But,  whatever  the  subject,  and  whatsoever 
the  treatment,  it  is  Newman  who  draws  on  the  reader 
through  all  the  tracts.  At  the  same  time,  with  all  his 
extraordinary   power   of    writing,    the    tracts    are   little 


298  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

read  either  in  England  or  in  Rome  ;  and  were  it  not  for 
Newman,  nobody  nowadays  would  ever  open  them. 
At  least  so  I  learn  from  all  Anglican  authorities.  But 
if  you  have  a  sufficient  wish  to  study  the  development, 
or,  as  some  readers  will  be  sure  to  call  it,  the  degeneration, 
of  the  finest  mind  in  the  Church  of  England  in  this 
century,  you  must  not  grudge  to  go  diligently  through 
every  successive  number  of  the  Tracts  for  the  Times.  Not 
that  Newman  writes  them  all,  but  there  is  not  one  of 
them  without  his  consent  and  approval  and  personal 
stamp.  At  the  same  time,  I  warn  you  before  you  begin 
that  you  will  need  to  have  all  your  patience  in  its  fullest 
exercise,  and  all  your  forbearance,  and  all  your  admira- 
tion of  Newman,  in  order  to  carry  you  on  from  the 
beginning  of  Tract  I.  to  the  end  of  Tract  XC.  Dreary 
and  saddening  as  much  of  the  tract-writing  is,  I  do  not 
need  to  say  that,  since  so  much  of  Newman  is  in  it,  you 
will  come  on  passages  not  a  few  that  do  not  require  his 
signature  set  to  them — passages  of  such  truth  and 
beauty  that  they  will  dwell  with  you  all  your  days. 
Having  read  all  the  ninety  tracts,  and  some  of  them 
many  times  over,  I  can,  concerning  not  a  few  of  them, 
subscribe  to  what  Dean  Church  says  about  the  series  : 
'  They  were  clear,  sharp,  stern  appeals  to  conscience 
and  reason,  sparing  of  words,  utterly  without  rhetoric, 
intense  in  purpose.  They  were  like  the  short,  sharp, 
rapid  utterances  of  men  in  pain,  and  danger,  and  pressing 
emergency.'  That  eulogium  is  only  true  of  the  selectest 
and  the  best  of  the  tracts,  that  is  to  say,  of  Newman's 
contributions  to  the  series.  As  regards  the  first  tract, 
which  gave  the  keynote  to  the  series,  I  can  entirely 
subscribe  to  what  Dr.  Abbott,  Newman's  severest  critic, 
says  about  it :  '  Regarded  as  a  specimen  of  Newman's 
sympathetic  rhetoric,  the  tract  is  most  admirable.     It 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  299 

is  indeed  a  splendid  piece.  All  the  more  effective, 
because  so  restrained.'  And  what  that  sternest  of 
Newman's  censors  says  about  the  first  tract  is  entirely 
true  of  many  more  of  Newman's  contributions.  '  Topics,' 
says  Mr.  Jacobs  in  a  fine  piece  of  criticism  reprinted  from 
the  Athenceum,  '  that  seemed  forbidding,  both  for  their 
theological  technicalities,  and  their  repulse  of  reason, 
were  presented  by  Newman  with  such  skill  that  they 
appeared  as  inevitable  as  Euclid,  and  as  attractive  as 
Plato.' 

But  it  was  the  pulpit  of  St.  Mary's  that  was  Newman's 
true  and  proper  throne.  It  was  from  the  pulpit  of  St. 
Mary's  that  he  began  to  conquer  and  to  rule  the  world. 
I  never  saw  Newman  in  his  pulpit  myself,  but  I  have 
read  so  much  about  his  appearance  in  the  pulpit  that  I 
feel  as  if  I  could  undertake  to  let  you  see  and  hear  him 
in  it.  I  have  open  before  me,  as  I  compose  these  lines, 
what  Shairp,  and  Church,  and  Mozley,  and  Froude,  and 
Lockhart,  and  Oakeley,  and  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  and 
many  more  have  told  us  about  Newman's  preaching. 
Principal  Shairp,  for  one,  has  a  most  admirable  picture 
of  Newman  in  the  pulpit.  He  begins  by  telling  us  how 
simple  and  unostentatious  the  service  in  St.  Mary's  was 
when  Newman  was  the  preacher.  '  No  pomp,  no  ritual- 
ism,' are  Shairp's  words,  '  nothing  but  the  silver  intona- 
tion of  Newman's  magic  voice.  Newman's  delivery 
had  this  peculiarity.  Each  sentence  was  spoken  rapidly, 
but  with  great  clearness  of  intonation,  and  then,  at  the 
close  of  every  sentence,  there  was  a  pause  that  lasted  for 
several  seconds.  Then  another  rapidly  but  clearly 
spoken  sentence,  followed  by  another  pause,  till  a  wonder- 
ful spell  took  hold  of  the  hearer.  The  look  and  bearing 
of  the  preacher  were  as  of  one  who  dwelt  apart,  and  who, 
though  he  knew  his  age  well,  did  not  live  in  his  age. 


300  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

From  his  seclusion  of  study,  and  abstinence,  and  prayer ; 
from  habitual  dwelling  in  the  unseen,  he  seemed  to  come 
forth  that  one  day  of  the  week  to  speak  to  others  of  the 
things  he  had  seen  and  known  in  secret.     As  he  spoke, 
how  the  old  truths  became  new  !    how  they  came  home 
with   a   meaning   never   felt   before !     The    subtlest   of 
truths  were  dropped  out  as  by  the  way  in  a  sentence  or 
two  of  the  most  transparent  Saxon.     What  delicacy  of 
style,  yet  what  calm  power  !  how  gentle  yet  how  strong  ! 
how  simple  yet  how  suggestive  !    how  homely  yet  how 
refined !     how    penetrating    yet    how    tender-hearted ! 
And  the  tone  of  voice  in  which  all    this  was  spoken 
sounded  to  you  like  a  fine  strain  of  unearthly  music' 
I  remember  vividly  the  delight  I  took  in  an  article  on 
Newman's  sermons  that  appeared  more  than  thirty  years 
ago  in  the  Saturday  Review.    That  article  gave  a  voice 
to  what  I  had  long  felt  about  Newman's  sermons,  but 
had  not  the  ability  myself  to  utter.     And  I  remember 
how  I  bought  up  not  a  few  numbers  of  that  issue  of  the 
Saturday  Review,  and  sent  them  to  friends  up  and  down 
the  country  in  order  that  they  might  share  the  fine  tribute 
with  me.     I  did  not  know  at  the  time  that  Dean  Church 
was  the  writer  of  that  remarkable  appreciation.     I  used 
to  have  the  following  passage  by  heart :   '  Dr.  Newman's 
sermons  stand  by  themselves  in  modem  English  litera- 
ture :   it  might  even  be  said,  in  English  literature  gener- 
alty.     There   have   been   equally  great   masterpieces   of 
English  w^riting  in  this  form  of  composition,  and  there 
have  been  preachers  whose  theological  depth,  acquaint- 
ance with  the  heart,  earnestness,  tenderness,  and  power 
have  not  been  inferior  to  his.     But  the  great  writers 
do  not  touch,  pierce,  and  get  hold  of  minds  as  Newman 
does,  and  those  who  are  famous  for  the  power  and  the 
results  of  their  preaching  do  not  write  as  he  does.     We 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  301 

have  learned  to  look  upon  Dr.  Newman  as  one  of  those 
who  have  left  their  mark  very  deep  on  the  English 
language.  Little,  assuredly,  as  their  writer  originally 
thought  of  such  a  result,  the  sermons  have  proved  a 
permanent  gift  to  our  literature,  of  the  purest  English, 
full  of  sirring,  clearness,  and  force.  Such  English, 
graceful  with  the  grace  of  nerve,  flexibility,  and  power, 
must  always  have  attracted  attention  ;  but  his  English 
had  also  an  ethical  element  which  was  almost  inseparable 
from  its  literary  characteristics.'  And  so  on,  to  the 
end  of  an  article  very  remarkable  for  its  insight  and  its 
eloquence. 

Before  leaving  St.  Mary's,  I  must  give  you  this  very 
remarkable  portrait  of  Newman,  lest  you  may  never 
have  seen  it.  James  Anthony  Froude,  in  an  article  in 
Good  Words  for  1881,  says  :  '  My  present  letter  will  be 
given  to  a  single  figure.  When  I  entered  Oxford  John 
Henry  Newman  was  beginning  to  be  famous.  His  appear- 
ance was  striking.  He  was  above  the  middle  height, 
slight,  and  spare.  His  head  was  large,  his  face  remark- 
ably like  that  of  Julius  Cassar.  The  forehead,  the  shape 
of  the  ears  and  nose,  were  almost  the  same.  I  have 
often  thought  of  the  resemblance,  and  believed  that  it 
extended  to  the  temperament.  In  both  there  was  an 
original  force  of  character  which  refused  to  be  moulded 
by  circumstances,  which  was  to  make  its  own  way,  and 
become  a  power  in  the  world  ;  a  clearness  of  intellectual 
perception,  a  disdain  for  conventionalities,  a  temper 
imperious  and  wilful,  but  always  with  it  a  most  attaching 
gentleness,  sweetness,  singleness  of  heart  and  purpose. 
Newman's  mind  was  world-wide.  He  was  interested 
in  everything  which  was  going  on  in  science,  in  politics, 
in  literature.  Nothing  was  too  large  for  him,  nothing  too 
trivial.     He  was  careless  about  his  personal  prospects. 


302  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

He  had  no  ambition  to  make  a  career,  or  to  rise  to  rank 
and  power.  Still  less  had  pleasure  any  seductions  for 
him.  His  natural  temperament  was  bright  and  light ; 
his  senses,  even  the  commonest,  were  exceptionally 
delicate.  I  am  told  that,  though  he  rarely  drank  wine, 
he  was  trusted  to  choose  the  vintages  of  the  college 
cellar.  He  could  admire  enthusiastically  any  greatness 
of  action  and  character,  however  remote  the  sphere  of 
it  from  his  own.  Gurwood's  Despatches  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  came  out  just  then.  Newman  had  been 
reading  the  book,  and  a  friend  asked  him  what  he  thought 
of  it.  "  Think  !  "  he  said  ;  "it  makes  one  burn  to  have 
been  a  soldier  !  "  '  I  could  not  deny  you  that  remark- 
able characterisation,  though  it  is  Froude's  description 
of  Newman  in  the  pulpit  I  am  specially  in  quest  of  : 
'  No  one  who  heard  his  sermons  in  those  days  can  ever 
forget  them.  Taking  some  Scripture  character  for  a 
text,  Newman  spoke  to  us  about  ourselves,  our  tempta- 
tions, our  experiences.  His  illustrations  were  inex- 
haustible. He  seemed  to  be  addressing  the  most  secret 
consciousness  of  each  of  us — as  the  eyes  of  a  portrait 
appear  to  look  at  every  person  in  a  room.  He  never 
exaggerated ;  he  was  never  unreal.  A  sermon  from 
Newman  was  a  poem,  formed  on  a  distinct  idea,  fascinat- 
ing by  its  subtlety,  welcome — how  welcome  ! — from  its 
sincerity,  interesting  from  its  originality  ;  even  to  those 
who  were  careless  of  religion,  and  to  those  who  wished  to 
be  religious,  it  was  like  the  springing  of  a  fountain  out  of 
a  rock.'  And  take  this  also  from  an  anonymous  pen  : 
'  Action  in  the  common  sense  there  was  none.  His 
hands  were  literally  not  seen  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end.  The  sermon  began  in  a  calm,  musical  voice,  the 
key  slightly  rising  as  it  went  on  ;  by  and  by  the  preacher 
warmed  with  his  subject,  till  it  seemed  as  if  his  very 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  803 

soul  and  body  glowed  with  suppressed  emotion.  The 
very  tones  of  his  voice  seemed  as  if  they  were  something 
more  than  his  own.  There  are  those  who  to  this  day, 
in  reading  many  of  his  sermons,  have  the  whole  scene 
brought  back  before  them.  The  great  church,  the 
congregation  all  breathless  with  expectant  attention, 
the  gaslight  just  at  the  left  hand  of  the  pulpit,  lowered 
that  the  preacher  might  not  be  dazzled  :  themselves, 
perhaps,  standing  in  the  half-darkness  under  the  gallery, 
and  then  the  pause  before  those  words  in  The  Ventures  of 
Faith  thrilled  through  them,  "  They  say  unto  Him, 
'  We  are  able,'  "  or  those  in  the  seventh  sermon  in  the 
sixth  volume,  "  The  Cross  of  Christ."  ' 

But  hear  William  Lockhart  also,  one  of  Newman's 
oldest  disciples :  '  To  see  Newman  come  into  St. 
Mary's,  in  his  long  white  surplice,  was  like  nothing  one 
had  seen  before.  He  glided  in  swiftly  like  a  spirit 
incarnate.  When  he  reached  the  lectern,  he  would  drop 
down  on  his  knees  and  remain  fixed  in  mental  prayer 
for  a  few  moments,  then  he  rose  in  the  same  unearthly 
way  and  began  the  service.  His  reading  of  the  lessons 
from  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  was  a  most  marvellous 
expression  of  soul.  Many  men  are  expressive  readers, 
only  we  can  see  that  they  intend  to  be  expressive.  But 
they  do  not  reach  the  soul ;  they  are  good  actors,  cer- 
tainly, but  they  do  not  forget  themselves,  and  you  do 
not  forget  them.  The  effect  of  Newman's  preaching  on 
us  young  men  was  to  turn  our  souls  inside  out.  It  was 
like  what  he  says  in  the  Dream  of  Gerontius  of  the  soul 
after  death,  and  presented  before  God — 

"  Who  draws  the  soul  from  out  its  case 
And  burns  away  its  stains," 

'  We  never  could  be  again  the  same  men  we  were 
before.' 


304  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

That  is  surely  enough.  Nothing  surely  could  add  to 
that.  Such  testimonies,  from  such  men,  are  almost  more 
to  us  than  if  we  had  been  hearers  of  Newman  for  our- 
selves. Next  to  having  been  his  hearers,  and  far  better 
than  that,  we  have  his  incomparable  sermons  in  our 
hands,  so  that  we  can  enter  St.  Mary's  whenever  we 
choose. 

We  would  willingly  remain  with  Newman  in  St.  Mary's 
pulpit  to  the  end,  if  he  would  only  remain  there  with  us. 
But  we  are  following  out  his  onward  career,  and  all  this 
time  he  has  been  making  steady  and  straight  for  Rome  ; 
so  much  so,  that  his  Romeward  progress  can  be  watched, 
and  measured,  and  recorded — Dr.  Abbott  has  done  it — 
in  almost  every  one  of  his  St.  Mary's  sermons.  No 
reader  of  those  sermons  who  has  his  eyes  open  can  fail 
to  see  Newman's  Romeward  footprints  on  every  page. 
He  denies  that  he  ever  took  his  Tractarian  doctrines 
into  the  pulpit ;  but,  then,  he  tells  us  that  it  was  almost 
a  rule  of  his  not  to  open  his  own  books  after  they  came 
out ;  and  he  cannot  have  opened  many  of  his  St.  Mary's 
sermons,  if  he  is  entirely  candid  in  what  he  says  about 
them  in  the  matter  of  their  Tractarianism.  At  any 
rate,  I  cannot  open  them  without  being  continually 
vexed  and  thrown  out  by  his  constant  asides  at 
evangelical  truth,  not  to  say  by  his  constantly  insinuated 
praises  of  Tractarian  positions,  and  sacerdotal  and 
ascetic  practices,  with  their  both  justifying  and  sanctify- 
ing influences.  From  the  first  of  his  published  sermons 
to  the  last,  sermon  succeeding  sermon,  there  are  to  be 
seen  Newman's  onward  footprints,  soft  as  the  falling 
snow ;  his  swift,  noiseless,  delicate,  and  refined  foot- 
prints. Sometimes  for  a  moment  seeming  to  turn 
aside  ;  sometimes  for  a  moment,  as  one  would  think, 
looking  not  unwistfully  back ;    but  only  to  turn  all  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  305 

more  resolutely,  and  sometimes,  to  use  his  own  word, 
'  fiercely,'  on  his  Romeward  way.  In  all  his  tracts  also 
you  can  trace  the  same  progress  as  plainly  as  in  his 
sermons  ;  as  also  in  all  his  historical,  doctrinal,  and 
polemical  writings,  from  the  Arians  to  the  Development ; 
and  the  same  progress  is  still  more  dramatically  to  be 
studied  in  all  his  letters.  '  It  has  ever  been  a  hobby  of 
mine,  though  perhaps  it  is  a  truism,  not  a  hobby,  that 
the  true  hfe  of  a  man  is  in  his  letters.  Not  only  for  the 
interest  of  a  biography,  but  for  arriving  at  the  true  inside 
of  things,  the  publication  of  letters  is  the  true  method. 
Biographers  varnish,  they  assign  motives,  they  con- 
jecture feelings,  they  interpret  Lord  Burleigh's  nods  ; 
but  contemporary  letters  are  facts.'  On  these  four 
parallel  and  converging  lines  then, — his  sermons,  his 
tracts,  his  historical,  doctrinal,  and  controversial  publica- 
tions, and  his  letters,  and,  I  may  add,  his  poems — the 
attentive  student  can  trace  every  step  of  Newman's 
secession  from  the  Church  of  England,  and  every  step 
in  his  progress  toward  the  Church  of  Rome.  And  a 
right  repaying  study  it  is  to  the  proper  student, — the  rare 
student,  that  is,  of  sufficient  enterprise  and  endurance. 

'  From  the  end  of  1841  I  was  on  my  deathbed  as 
regards  my  membership  with  the  Anghcan  Church. 
Now  a  deathbed  has  scarcely  a  history ;  it  is  a  tedious 
decline,  with  seasons  of  rallying  and  seasons  of  falling 
back ;  and  since  the  end  is  foreseen,  or  what  is  called  a 
matter  of  time,  it  has  little  interest  for  the  reader, 
especially  if  he  has  a  kind  heart.  Moreover,  it  is  a 
season  when  doors  are  closed  and  curtains  drawn,  and 
when  the  sick  man  neither  cares  nor  is  able  to  record 
the  stages  of  his  malady.'  Littlemore  was  the  scene  of 
Newman's  deathbed.  Littlemore  was  a  sort  of  midway 
house  between  Oxford  and  Rome.     Or,  rather,  it  was 


306  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

the  last  hostel  on  the  Roman  road.  '  Father  Dalgairns 
and  myself,'  says  Lockhart,  '  were  the  first  inmates  of 
Littlemore.  It  was  a  kind  of  monastic  life  of  retirement, 
prayer,  and  study.  We  had  a  sincere  desire  to  remain 
in  the  Church  of  England,  if  we  could  be  satisfied  that 
in  so  doing  we  were  members  of  the  world-wide  visible 
communion  of  Christianity  which  was  of  apostolic  origin. 
We  spent  our  time  at  Littlemore  in  study,  prayer,  and 
fasting.  We  rose  at  midnight  to  recite  the  Breviary 
Office,  consoling  ourselves  with  the  thought  that  we 
were  united  in  prayer  with  united  Christendom,  and 
were  using  the  very  words  used  by  the  saints  of  all  ages. 
We  regularly  practised  confession,  and  went  to  Com- 
munion, I  think,  daily,  at  the  village  church.  At  dinner 
we  met  together,  and  after  some  spiritual  reading  at 
table  we  enjoyed  conversation  with  Newman.  He 
spoke  freely  on  all  subjects  that  came  up,  but  I  think 
controversial  topics  were  tacitly  avoided.  He  was  most 
scrupulous  not  to  suggest  doubts  as  to  the  position  of 
the  Church  of  England  to  those  who  had  them  not. 
Newman  would  never  let  us  treat  him  as  a  superior, 
but  placed  himself  on  a  level  with  the  youngest  of  us. 
It  was  his  wish  to  give  us  some  direct  object  of  study  in 
his  splendid  library,  in  which  were  all  the  finest  editions 
of  the  Greek  and  Latin  fathers  and  schoolmen,  all  the 
best  works  on  Scripture  and  theology,  general  literature, 
prose  and  verse,  and  a  complete  set  of  the  Bollandist 
Acta  Sanctorum,  so  far  as  they  had  been  printed.  New- 
man was  an  excellent  violin  player,  and  he  would  some- 
times bring  his  instrument  into  the  library  after  dinner, 
and  entertain  us  with  the  exquisite  sonatas  of  Beethoven.' 
But  by  this  time  the  end  was  not  far  off.  And  this 
letter  to  his  sister  will  best  describe  the  end  : — 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  307 

'LiTTLEMOHE,  Ocioher  dth,  1845. 

'  My  dear  Jemima, — I  must  tell  you  what  will  pain 
you  greatly,  but  I  will  make  it  as  short  as  you  would 
wish  me  to  do. 

'  This  night  Father  Dominic,  the  Passionist,  sleeps 
here.  He  does  not  know  of  my  intention  ;  but  I  shall 
ask  him  to  receive  me  into  what  I  believe  to  be  the  One 
Fold  of  the  Redeemer. 

'  This  will  not  go  till  all  is  over. — Ever  yours 
affectionately,  John  H.  Newman.' 

'  I  left  Oxford  for  good  on  Monday,  February  23,  1846. 
On  the  Saturday  and  Sunday  before,  I  was  in  my  house 
at  Littlemore  simply  by  myself,  as  I  had  been  for  the 
first  day  or  two  when  I  had  originally  taken  possession 
of  it.  I  slept  on  Sunday  night  at  my  dear  friend's, 
Mr.  Johnson,  at  the  Observatory.  Various  friends 
came  to  see  the  last  of  me  :  Mr.  Copeland,  Mr.  Church, 
Mr.  Buckle,  Mr.  Pattison,  and  Mr.  Lewis.  Dr.  Pusey, 
too,  came  up  to  take  leave  of  me  ;  and  I  called  on  Dr. 
Ogle,  one  of  my  very  oldest  friends,  for  he  was  my 
private  tutor  when  I  was  an  undergraduate.  In  him 
I  took  leave  of  my  first  college,  Trinity,  which  was  so 
dear  to  me,  and  which  held  on  its  foundation  so  many 
who  have  been  kind  to  me,  both  when  I  was  a  boy,  and 
all  through  my  Oxford  life.  Trinity  had  never  been 
unkind  to  me.  There  used  to  be  much  snap-dragon 
growing  on  the  walls  opposite  my  freshman's  rooms 
there,  and  I  had  for  years  taken  it  as  the  emblem  of 
my  own  perpetual  residence,  even  unto  death,  in  my 
university. 

'  On  the  morning  of  the  23rd  I  left  the  Observatory. 
I  have  never  seen  Oxford  since,  excepting  its  spires,  as 
they  are  seen  from  the  railway.' 


308  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

'  Father  Dominic  does  not  know  of  my  intention ; 
but  I  mean  to  ask  of  him  admission  into  the  One  Fold 
of  Christ.'  Now,  I  have  studied  every  syllable  that 
Newman  ever  wrote  about  '  the  One  Fold  of  Christ,' 
both  before  he  had  asked  to  be  admitted  into  it,  and 
after  his  admittance.  But  he  has  failed  to  convince 
his  most  admiring  and  most  open-minded  reader.  Not 
only  has  he  not  convinced  that  reader,  but  he  has  con- 
firmed him  more  than  ever  the  other  way.  No  ;  Newman 
and  all  his  entrancing  Tractarian  and  Catholic  writings 
notwithstanding.  Neither  Moscow,  nor  Rome,  nor 
Geneva,  nor  Canterbury,  is  the  One  Fold  of  Christ  to 
me.  To  me,  I  thank  God,  none  of  all  those  assuming 
and  contending  churches,  nor  all  of  them  taken  together, 
is  the  One  Fold  of  Christ.  The  Good  Shepherd,  who 
gave  His  life  for  the  sheep,  has  much  sheep  of  His  in  all 
these  partial  folds,  and  much  sheep  of  His  outside  them 
all,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out  of  His  hand. 
To  me,  Protestant  though  I  am,  the  true  pathos  of 
Newman's  history  does  not  lie  in  his  leaving  the  Church 
of  England  for  the  Church  of  Rome,  but  it  lies  in  his 
for  ever  forsaking  the  Evangelical  faith,  than  which, 
properly  speaking,  there  is  no  other  faith,  and  in  declining 
upon  a  system  of  religion  in  which  that  faith,  as  I  suppose, 
is  at  its  very  lowest  point.  Paul's  indignant  language 
to  the  Galatian  Church  alone  expresses  my  sad  thoughts 
over  Newman's  declension.  I  will  not  repeat  that 
language,  but  all  who  know  Newman's  history  will 
recall  and  will  apply  that  language  for  themselves. 
'  But,'  as  Newman  says  of  himself  in  the  Introduction 
to  his  Chrysostom,  '  I  am  getting  far  more  argumentative 
than  I  thought  to  be  when  I  began  ;  so  I  will  soon  lay 
down  my  pen  and  retire  into  myself.' 

The  last  forty  years  of  Newman's  earthly  life  were 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  809 

spent  within  the  walls  of  the  Oratory  at  Birmingham. 
And,  monastery  as  it  was,  it  was  in  many  respects  a 
charming  retreat  for  a  community  of  scholars  and 
Christian  gentlemen.  You  must  not  think  of  Newman 
and  his  confraternity  as  cooped  up  in  narrow  cells, 
never  seeing  the  sun,  and  never  allowed  to  speak  or  to 
look  up  from  the  ground.  You  must  not  think  of  them 
as  fasting  every  day,  and  only  breaking  their  fast  with 
a  crumb  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  cold  water.  Far  from 
that ;  for  Philip  Neri  was  their  patron  saint,  and  not 
Father  Mathew.  And  under  Philip's  genial  rule  they 
had  great  times  of  it  at  Edgbaston.  The  students  had 
stage-plays  and  all  kinds  of  out-of-doors  sports  and 
games  to  their  hearts'  content,  Father  Newman  the 
greatest  boy  of  them  all.  He  employed  his  fine  and 
familiar  scholarship  to  adapt  old  Latin  comedies  to  the 
Oratory  stage,  he  presided  in  person  over  the  rehearsals, 
saw  to  the  proper  dresses  with  his  own  eyes,  and  that  at 
no  end  of  expense.  '  He  coached  nearly  every  one  of 
the  players  privately,  and  astonished  them  not  a  little 
by  the  extraordinary  versatility  and  dramatic  power 
with  which  he  would  himself  personate  for  their  imitation 
a  love-sick  Roman  exquisite  or  a  drunken  slave.'  And 
not  for  the  entertainment  of  the  young  men  only,  were 
these  relaxations  indulged  in.  The  head  of  the  holy 
house  himself  had  been  all  his  days  passionately  fond  of 
music,  and  at  eighty  few  could  handle  the  fiddle-bow 
like  him.  And  then,  the  six  days  of  the  secular  week 
were  not  sufficient  for  the  flow  of  spirits  that  welled  up 
in  the  old  Cardinal's  heart.  Dr.  Allen  tells  us  that  long 
after  Phillips  Brooks  was  the  most  famous  preacher  in 
America,  on  one  occasion  when  he  and  his  brother  were 
back  in  the  old  home  on  a  holiday,  so  obstreperous  were 
the  noises  that  were  coming  out  of  the  smoking-room, 


310  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

that  their  mother  knocked  at  the  door  and  exclaimed, 
'  My  boys,  remember  that  it  is  the  Sabbath-day  ! '  And 
had  the  Cardinal's  Huguenot  mother  been  allowed  inside 
the  Oratory  on  any  Sabbath-day  whatever,  most 
certainly  she  would  have  boldly  reproved  the  cricket 
and  the  concerts  that  went  on  all  the  afternoon,  to  the 
scandal  of  the  Puritan  neighbourhood.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  Newman's  near  neighbours  did  remonstrate  with 
him  against  his  continental  Sunday,  but  Hippocleides 
didn't  care.  And  the  thing  went  on.  But  you  must  not 
suppose  that  all  the  Cardinal's  forty  years  in  the  Oratory 
were  spent  in  sport  like  that.  One  who  must  have  known 
the  Oratory  from  the  inside  once  wrote  about  it  thus  : 
'  As  Dr.  Newman's  days  grow  fewer,  they  grow  longer. 
He  has  ever  been  an  early  riser,  and  now  from  five  in 
the  morning  to  an  unknown  hour  at  night  he  is  busily 
engaged  in  redeeming  the  time.  His  first  two  hours  are 
given  to  devotion.  About  eight  o'clock  he  appears  in 
the  refectory,  where  he  breakfasts  in  silence,  attacking 
meanwhile  the  pile  of  correspondence  which  awaits  him 
on  the  table.  Then  his  own  room  receives  him,  and  until 
half-past  two  or  three  in  the  afternoon  correspondence, 
study,  and  the  duties  of  the  house  and  the  school,  engross 
him.  An  hour  or  two  in  the  afternoon  is  given  to  exer- 
cise, for  he  is  still  a  great  pedestrian  ;  the  community 
dinner  is  at  six  o'clock ;  and  on  days  when  his  turn 
comes  round  "  the  Father  "  girds  on  the  apron  of  service, 
and  waits  upon  his  brethren,  not  sitting  down  till  they  are 
all  served.  All  eat  in  silence,  only  broken  by  the  voice 
of  the  lector.  Perhaps  the  two  things  which  most 
strike  the  visitor  among  these  ecclesiastics  is  their 
thoroughly  English  tone,  and  the  liberality,  in  the 
highest  sense,  of  their  views.  So  passes  Dr.  Newman's 
life  in  the  Birmingham  Oratory.' 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  311 

The  Cardinal  did  not  need  to  assure  us  that  his  mind 
was  not  idle  during  his  Catholic  days.  He  did  not  need 
to  certify  us  that  he  had  not  given  over  thinking  on 
theological  subjects.  The  Sermons  addressed  to  Mixed 
Congregations,  the  Sermons  preached  on  Various  Occa- 
sions, The  Idea  of  a  University,  the  Grammar  of  Assent, 
the  Apologia  pro  vitd  sua.  Loss  and  Gain,  Callista,  The 
Dream  of  Gerontius,  his  brilliant  controversial  volumes, 
and  his  ceaseless  re-writing  and  re-arranging  of  his 
Anglican  works,  such  as  his  Arians,  his  Athanasius,  his 
Theological  Tracts,  and  his  fine  volumes  of  Critical  and 
Historical  Essays ;  all  that  is  proof  enough  of  the  con- 
tinued activity  of  his  magnificent  mind.  His  Oratory 
writings  alone  would  make  up  a  noble  life's  work  in 
themselves,  even  for  a  man  of  the  greatest  genius,  and 
the  greatest  industry,  which  Newman  was  to  the  end 
of  his  days. 

'  I  cannot  see,  I  cannot  speak,  I  cannot  hear,  God  bless 
you,'  was  Newman's  message  to  his  old  friend  Mr. 
Gladstone  in  November  1888.  Newman's  delight  in 
men,  in  books,  and  in  affairs  had  all  his  life  been  intense, 
and  he  had  a  strong  desire  that  his  life  might  be  pro- 
longed to  its  utmost  possible  span,  if  it  was  the  will  of 
God.  '  For  myself,  now,  at  the  end  of  a  long  life,  I  say 
from  a  full  heart  that  God  has  never  failed  me,  has  never 
disappointed  me,  has  ever  turned  evil  into  good  for  me. 
When  I  was  young  I  used  to  say  (and  I  trust  it  was  not 
presumptuous  to  say  it)  that  our  Lord  ever  answered 
my  prayers.'  And  his  prayer  for  a  long  life  was  answered 
like  all  the  rest  of  his  prayers.  Cardinal  Newman  died 
at  the  Edgbaston  Oratory  on  Monday,  11th  August  1890, 
and  was  buried  at  his  own  little  estate  of  Rednal,  under 
this  epitaph  written  by  himself  : — 


312  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

JOANNES   HENRICUS    NEWMAN 

EX    UMBRIS    ET    IMAGINIBUS 
IN    VERITATEM 

REQUIESCAT    IN    PACE 

The  Church  of  Rome  may  well  be  proud  of  her  conquest 
of  Newman,  for  she  never  made  spoil  of  a  nobler  foe. 
But  what  Rome  gains  and  holds,  she  gains  and  holds 
not  for  herself  alone.  Men  like  Newman  are  not  to  be 
separated  up  to  any  one  sect  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 
They  belong  to  no  one  denomination  even  when  they 
surrender  themselves  to  it.  In  the  adorable  providence 
of  God,  it  may  have  been  permitted  and  appointed  that 
Newman  should  pass  over  into  the  Roman  communion 
to  do  a  service  for  God  in  that  communion  that  no  other 
living  man  could  do.  We  are  not  able  to  follow  out  such 
pennissions  and  appointments  of  God's  providence  to 
their  ultimate  end.  It  is  enough  to  know  that  men  like 
Newman  are  not  their  own,  and  that  their  very  errors 
and  mistakes  are  made  to  work  together  for  good  to 
themselves,  and  to  many  besides  themselves.  Rome 
belongs  to  the  Risen  Christ,  as  well  as  Moscow,  and 
Geneva,  and  Canterbury,  and  Edinburgh.  And  He  to 
whom  we  all  belong  will  dispose  of  His  servants,  and  will 
distribute  their  services,  according  to  their  talents  and 
according  to  our  necessities.  And  that,  not  according 
to  our  approval,  but  according  to  His  own.  And  now, 
for  one  thing,  who  can  tell  but  some  open  mind  among 
ourselves  may,  as  he  hears  all  this,  be  led  to  say — Surely 
the  Church  of  Rome  must  be  other  and  better  than  I 
have  been  brought  up  to  think  she  was,  since  she  drew 
over  to  herself  such  a  saint,  and  such  a  scholar,  and  such 
a  man  of  genius,  as  Newman  was.     Well,  whatever  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  313 

Church  of  Rome  is  or  is  not,  for  you  to  say  that  about 
her  is  a  good  sign  in  you.  I  want  you  to  be  more  hospit- 
able in  your  heart  to  Rome  than  she  is  to  you  ;  more 
cathohc  than  she  is,  more  humble,  more  tender,  more 
hopeful,  and  altogether  more  charitable.  I  do  not 
want  any  of  you  to  be  like  the  man  in  William  Law  who 
died  devoid  of  all  religion  because  he  had  spent  all  his 
life  on  earth  in  nothing  else  but  in  constant  terror  of 
Popery.  And  I  will  hope  and  will  be  sure  that  one  result 
of  our  present  appreciation  of  Newman  together  will  be 
to  help  to  lead  you  to  something  of  my  own  mind  in  these 
matters,  which  I  would  not  now  lose  or  exchange  for  all 
the  world.  For,  as  I  see  and  believe,  our  brethren  in  the 
Church  of  Rome  have  some  things  to  teach  us  ;  but, 
again,  we  have  far  more  important  things  to  call  to  their 
remembrance.     Newman  sang  : 

'  O  that  thy  creed  were  sound  1 
For  thou  dost  sootlie  the  heart,  thou  Church  of  Rome, 
By  thy  unwearied  watch  and  varied  round 
Of  service,  in  thy  Saviour's  holy  home.' 

Wlien  her  creed  is  again  sound,  and  when  we  have 
humbled  ourselves  to  learn  from  her  some  of  the  not  un- 
needed  lessons  that  she  has  to  teach  us,  then  Ephraim 
shall  not  any  more  envy  Judah,  and  Judah  shall  not 
any  more  vex  Ephraim.  Then  He  shall  set  up  an 
ensign  for  the  nations,  and  shall  assemble  the  outcasts 
of  Israel,  and  gather  together  the  dispersed  of  Judah 
from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth.  Who  is  she  that 
looketh  forth  as  the  morning,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as 
the  sun,  and  terrible  as  an  army  Avith  banners  ?  Enlarge 
the  place  of  thy  tent,  and  let  them  stretch  forth  the 
curtains  of  thine  habitations  ;  spare  not,  lengthen  thy 
cords,  and  strengthen  thy  stakes  ;  for  thou  shalt  break 
forth  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left ;    and  thy  seed 


S14  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

shall  inherit  the  Gentiles,  and  make  the  desolate  cities 
to  be  inhabited. 

The  true  Catholic,  as  his  name  implies,  is  the  well- 
read,  the  open-minded,  the  hospitable-hearted,  the 
spiritually-exercised  Evangelical,  as  he  is  called.  He 
is  of  no  sect.  He  is  of  no  school.  He  is  of  no  occasion. 
He  comes  of  no  movement.  He  belongs  to  all  sects, 
and  all  sects  belong  to  him.  So  far  as  they  have  any 
portion  of  Divine  truth  in  their  keeping,  or  any  evidence 
of  Divine  grace  in  their  walk  and  conversation,  they  all 
are  his  fellow-communicants  and  his  brethren.  How 
rich  such  men  are  in  truth  and  love  and  hope  !  for  all 
things  are  theirs.  All  men,  and  all  books,  and  all 
churches.  Whether  Paul,  or  John,  or  Augustine,  or 
Athanasius,  or  Dante,  or  Luther,  or  Behmen,  or  Calvin, 
or  Hooker,  or  Taylor,  or  Knox,  or  Rutherford,  or  Bunyan, 
or  Butler,  or  Edwards,  or  Chalmers,  or  Newman,  or 
Spurgeon.  And  we  have  not  a  few  of  such  Catholic 
Evangelicals  in  our  pulpits,  and  among  our  people,  in 
Scotland,  and  they  are  multiplying  among  us  every 
day.  And  nowhere  in  broad  Christendom  does  the 
foremost  scholarship,  wedded  to  the  oldest  and  deepest 
doctrines  of  grace,  produce  such  good  preaching,  and  such 
receptive  and  believing  hearing,  as  just  in  that  land  where 
Laud  found  no  religion,  and  where  Newman,  when  in  his 
Laud-like  mind,  saw  only  Samaritan  schism,  somewhat 
alleviated  by  God's  uncovenanted  mercies. 

To  return  once  more  to  the  Apologia :  '  In  1843  I 
took  a  very  significant  step.  I  made  a  formal  Retracta- 
tion of  all  the  hard  things  which  I  had  said  against  the 
Church  of  Rome.'  Now  there  was  a  far  more  significant 
step  than  that  which  Newman  ought  to  have  taken  in 
1890.  But  it  was  a  step  which,  alas,  he  died  without 
having  taken.    He   ousrht   to   have   laid   his   honoured 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  815 

head  in  the  dust  for  all  the  slings  and  scoffs  he  had  ever 
uttered  in  the  pride  of  his  heart  at  men  whose  shoe- 
latchet,  he  should  have  said,  he  was  not  worthy  to  un- 
loose. The  shoe-latchet  of  such  men  of  God  as  Luther, 
and  Calvin,  and  the  Anglican  Reformers,  as  well  as 
Bunyan,  and  Newton,  and  Wesley,  and  many  more 
men  of  God,  whose  only  offence  against  Newman  and 
his  sectarian  and  intolerant  school  had  been  that  they 
were  determined  to  preach  no  other  gospel  than  the 
gospel  of  a  sinner's  free  justification  before  God  by  faith 
on  the  Son  of  God,  and  on  Him  and  on  His  work  alone. 
Men  to  whom  their  Master  will  yet  say,  Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant !  and  that,  too,  in  Newman's 
hearing.  Those  who  are  best  able  to  speak  about  such 
matters  assure  us  that  Newman  largely  returned  to  his 
mother's  Huguenot  and  Puritan  faith  in  his  last  days. 
And  I  believe  it.  But,  then,  he  should  have  said  so  him- 
self, and  he  should  have  openly  apologised  for  and 
repudiated  all  he  had  ever  written,  and  had  instigated 
others  to  write,  to  the  detriment  of  apostolical  and 
evangelical  religion.  Had  he  done  that  he  would  have 
died  in  the  Catholic  faith  indeed.  And  then  he  would 
have  had  all  his  great  gifts,  \vith  all  their  sjjlendid  usury, 
accepted  when  he  came  to  offer  them  at  the  altar.  As 
it  is,  '  He  that  despiseth  you,  despiseth  Me  ;  and  he  that 
despiseth  Me,  despiseth  Him  that  sent  Me.'  I  am  not 
Newman's  judge ;  but  if  I  were,  I  would  say  of  him,  in 
the  language  of  his  own  Church,  that  he  died  unrepentant 
and  unabsolved  of  the  sin  of  having  despised  and  trampled 
on,  and  of  having  taught  many  others  to  despise  and 
trample  on,  some  of  the  best  ministers  of  Christ  this 
world  has  ever  seen. 

When,  then,  if  such  thy  lot,  thou  seest  thy  Judge, 
The  sight  of  Him  will  kindle  in  thy  heart 


316  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

All  tender,  gracious^  reverential  thoughts, 

And  thou  wilt  hate  and  loathe  thyself;  for,  though 

Now  sinless,  thou  wilt  feel  that  thou  hast  sinned, 

As  never  thou  didst  feel ;  and  wilt  desire 

To  slink  away,  and  hide  thee  from  His  sight, 

And  yet  wilt  have  a  longing  aye  to  dwell 

^V'^ithiu  the  beauty  of  His  countenance. 

And  those  two  pains,  so  counter  and  so  keen, — 

The  longing  for  Him,  when  thou  seest  Him  not ; 

The  shame  of  self  at  thought  of  seeing  Him, — 

Will  be  thy  veriest,  sharpest  purgatory. 

Newman's  works  extend  altogether  to  some  thirty- 
seven  or  thirty-eight  volumes,  not  counting  his  Tracts 
for  the  Times.  Newman's  works  may  be  described  and 
classified  as  containing  sermons,  pure  theology,  pure 
literature,  history,  treatises,  essays,  polemics,  fiction, 
poetry,  devotions,  autobiography, — and  all  first-rate  of 
their  kind.  And,  all  taken  together,  constituting  a 
body  of  intellectual  workmanship  that  stands  absolutely 
by  itself  in  English  literature. 

The  Lyra  Apostolica  was  the  first  publication  with 
which  Newman's  name  was  associated.  '  It  was  at 
Rome  that  we  began  the  Lyra  Apostolica,  which  appeared 
monthly  in  the  British  Magazine.  The  motto  shows  the 
feeling  of  both  Froude  and  myself  at  the  time ;  we 
borrowed  from  Bunsen  a  Homer  ;  and  Froude  chose  the 
words  in  which  Achilles  on  returning  to  the  battle  says, 
"  You  shall  know  the  difference,  now  that  I  am  back 
again."  '  Exactly  so.  It  is  the  motto,  not  the  title- 
page,  that  truly  describes  the  character  of  this  bellicose 
little  book.  The  motto  is  out  of  the  Iliad,  and,  most 
certainly,  the  fierce  little  volume  is  written  much  more 
in  the  spirit  of  the  Iliad  than  in  the  spirit  of  the  New 
Testament.  If  you  had  never  heard  of  the  Lyra  Apostolica, 
but  had  come  upon  it  by  chance,  had  read  its  title-page, 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  317 

and  had  then  dipped  into  its  contents,  you  would  certainly 
have  laid  it  down,   saying,   Surely   never  was   written 
book  worse  named  than  this  proud,  scornful,  ill-natured, 
and  most  anti-apostolic  ebullition  !     And  the  more  you 
had  been  indoctrinated  with  apostolic  truth,  and  imbued 
with  the  apostolic  spirit,  the  more  would  you  resent  the 
utterly    misleading   title-page,    however    happy    to    the 
book  you  might  think  the  motto  and  the  heathen  source 
of  it.     The  motto  is  most  excellent  for  the  purpose  of  the 
Lyra,  but  the  title-page  is  a  very  triumph  of  misnomer. 
Froude  supplied  the  motto,  and  no  little  of  the  pugnacious 
and   egotistical   spirit   of   the  Lyra ;    but  Newman,   as 
usual,  did  the  most  of  the  work,  as  he  certainly  did  all 
the  best  of  it.     There  are  179  pieces  in  the  Lyra  alto- 
gether ;    of  which  Newman  contributed  109,  Keble  46, 
Isaac  Williams  9,  Froude  8,  Bowden  6,  and  Wilberforce  1. 
Bowden  writes  above  the  signature  a,  Froude  above  /3, 
Keble  above  7,  Newman  above  h,  Wilberforce  above  e, 
and  Williams  above  f.     The  most  valuable  of  the  pieces 
are   those   that   are   autobiographical   of  Newman,   but 
there  are  other  contributions  of  his  besides  the  auto- 
biographical that  we  would  not  willingly  let  die.     They 
are  such  as  Moses,   The  Call  of  David,   Judaism,   The 
Elements,  Deeds  not  Words,  and  some  more.     But,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  are  far  more,  both  of  his  and  of 
his  colleagues'  contributions,  that,  both  for  their  writers' 
sake,  as  well  as  for  the  sake  of  truth  and  love,  had  better 
have  been  buried  out  of  sight.     Newman's  more  personal 
pieces  are  full  of  religious  fear,  and  religious  doubt,  and 
sometimes  of  downright  religious  despair ;    at  their  best 
they  are  everything  but  apostolical.     From  first  to  last 
the  Lyra  is  political,  ecclesiastical,  clerical,  sacramental, 
ascetic  ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  let  it  be  called  apostolical 
without  a  loud  protest.     You  may  hesitate  to  believe 


318  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

that  the  work  of  such  men  can,  with  any  fairness,  be 
called  political ;  but  that  description  of  the  book  is  not 
mine.  '  Do  not  mention  it,'  writes  Newman,  '  but  we 
have  hopes  of  making  the  Lyra  an  effective,  quasi- 
political  engine,  without  any  contribution  being  of  that 
character.'  And  Mr.  Holt  Hutton,  who  loved  Newman 
like  a  father,  has  insight  and  honesty  enough  to  admit 
that  several  of  Ne^vman's  own  pieces  are  nothing  other 
than  '  theologico-political  anathemas.'  And  Mr.  Jacobs 
in  an  admirable  Athencemn  article  says  that  '  throughout 
Newman's  Anglican  period  the  ecclesiastical  things  that 
touched  him  most  nearly  were  not  things  of  dogma,  but 
lay  in  the  sphere  of  practical  politics.  At  every  point 
of  his  career  it  was  some  problem  in  the  relations  of 
Church  and  State  that  affected  him  most  strongly.  The 
abolition  of  the  Irish  bishoprics,  the  alliance  of  O'Connell 
and  the  Whigs, — these  things,  and  things  hke  these, 
are  the  turning-points  of  his  career.  Even  the  diplomatic 
reserve  and  economy  of  truth  with  which  the  world 
credited  him  for  so  many  years  were  marks  of  the 
ecclesiastical  statesman,  not  of  the  religious  thinker.' 
There  is  plenty  of  intellect  in  the  Lijra — with  such 
authors  it  could  not  be  otherwise  ;  plenty  of  scholarship 
of  a  kind ;  plenty  of  Old  Testament,  classical,  and 
ecclesiastical  illustration  and  allusion,  but  you  will 
search  in  vain  for  the  apostolical  element  in  it.  The 
Lyra  is  too  much  like  what  Augustine  found  the  father 
of  Newman's  style  to  be.  The  author  of  the  Confessions 
discovered  everything  in  Cicero  that  was  delightful, 
except  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  that  name  of  all 
names  is  far  too  little  to  be  found  in  the  Lyra  to  let  us 
call  it,  of  all  epithets,  apostolical.  The  Church  of 
England  and  the  Church  of  Rome  are  quite  sufficiently 
in  it  to  admit  of  its  being  truly  described  as  ecclesiastical, 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  319 

and  we  have  the  best  of  authority  for  calhng  it  qiiasi- 
poHtical ;  but,  again,  I  will  protest,  not  apostolical. 
Isaac  WilUams  wrote  a  famous  tract  on  '  Reserve  in 
communicating  Religious  Knowledge,'  and  the  Lyra 
authors  are  all  so  many  illustrations  and  examples  of 
that  anti-apostolical  tract.  For  they  reserve  and  exclude 
altogether  the  things  that  the  Apostle  always  puts  in  the 
very  forefront  of  every  Epistle  of  his.  Newman  says 
that  the  movement  needed  boldness.  So  it  did.  And 
it  needed  some  boldness  in  him  to  call  the  Lyra  by  the 
name  of  apostolical,  unless  it  was  so  called  in  an  economy, 
and  is  another  case  of  the  editor's  irony. 

Yes  ;  call  the  Lyra  Judaica,  or  Patristica,  or  Ecclesi- 
astica,  or  Anglicana,  but  Apostolica  it  never  is  in  so 
much  as  a  single  page.  I  have  sought  for  it,  but  I  have 
not  found  one  single  piece  among  all  the  179,  that  I 
could  imagine  the  Apostle  receiving  into  the  number  of 
the  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs  that  he  taught 
his  young  churches  to  sing.  Not  one.  I  never  find 
myself  chanting  a  Lyra  to  myself  when  I  again  come  to 
mj^self  in  the  early  morning.  An  Olney  hymn  or  a 
Wesley  hymn  often — '  Rock  of  Ages,'  '  There  is  a 
fountain  filled  with  blood,'  '  Just  as  I  am,'  '  Jesus,  Lover 
of  my  soul,'  '  Jesus,  Thy  blood  and  righteousness,' 
*  How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds,'  '  Come,  my  soul, 
thy  suit  prepare ' — but  never  once  a  Lijra  Apostolica, 
nor  any  of  its  school,  unless  it  is  '  New  every  morning  is 
the  love,'  or  'Help  us  this  and  every  day. to  live  more 
nearly  as  we  pray.'  The  Lyra  will  no  doubt  continue 
for  a  time  to  be  studied  and  annotated  by  experts  in 
English  ecclesiastical  history,  but  by  very  few  besides. 
Whereas,  the  hymns  I  have  named,  and  which  are  so 
despised  by  the  Tractarian  school,  will  last  as  long  as 
the  Church  of  Christ  lasts.     Both   the  Lyra,   and   the 


320  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

Christian  Year,  and  the  Cathedral,  are  the  poetry  of  a 
school.  A  great  school  in  its  day.  A  scholarly  school. 
An  aristocratic  school.  A  stately,  refined,  fastidious 
school ;  but  still  a  school.  A  caste,  as  those  it  despises 
and  tramples  upon  might  well  turn  upon  it  and  call  it. 
Yes  ;  the  Lyra  is  the  production  of  a  school,  of  a  caste, 
and  of  an  occasion.  Neither  the  Lyra,  nor  anything  of 
its  kind,  is  truly  Christian  and  Catholic.  You  could  not 
translate  the  Lyra  into  another  language  than  the  English. 
It  will  not  be  intelligible  to  another  age  than  that  which 
produced  it,  nor  to  another  civilisation.  Whereas, 
wherever  Paul's  Epistles  are  preached,  if  they  are  preached 
with  the  understanding  and  the  spirit,  there  the  great 
hymns  I  have  named  will  come  to  the  mind  like  the 
mother-tongue  of  the  Evangelical  worshipper.  This  is 
not  said  in  any  depreciation  of  Newman,  or  Keble,  or 
Williams,  or  any  of  their  school.  I  only  say  this  to  lead 
you  to  give  to  the  Wesleys,  and  Newton,  and  Cowper, 
and  Toplady,  and  Zinzendorf,  and  Doddridge,  and 
Watts,  and  Hart,  and  Bonar,  their  unchallengeably 
apostolic  places  in  your  worship  and  in  your  love. 

Under  the  title  of  '  Schism '  there  are  three  very 
characteristic  verses  in  the  Lyra  that  bear  on  ourselves. 
Scotland  is  '  Samaria,'  and  our  Presbyterian  reformers 
and  theologians  are  a  '  self -formed  priesthood.'  Our 
fathers  sinned  in  carrying  out  the  Reformation,  and  we, 
their  children,  have  thus  lost  the  grace  that  seals  '  the 
holy  apostolic  line.'  That  is  to  say,  Knox,  and  Melville, 
and  Bruce,  and  Rutherford,  and  Halyburton,  and  the 
Erskines,  and  Boston,  and  Chalmers,  and  M'Cheyne, 
were  a  grace-forsaken  priesthood.  And  we,  their  spiritual 
children,  can  only  look  for  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  the 
Catholic  table.  That  is  a  specimen  of  the  religion  and 
the  morals  and  the  manners  of  the  Tractarian  lyre.     But, 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  321 

then,   two  can   play  at  that  unchurching  and  excom- 
municating game.     As   thus,    '  We   know   you   only   as 
heretics,'   said   M.   Mourouvieff  of   the  Holy   Synod   to 
William  Palmer,  the  Tractarian  deputy.     '  You  separated 
from  the  Latin  Church  three  hundred  years  ago,  as  the 
Latins  had  before  that  separated  from  the  Greeks.     We 
think  even  the  Latin  Church  heretical,  but  you  are  an 
apostasy  from  an  apostasy.     You  are  a  descent  from  bad 
to   worse.'     And,   as   if   taught   a  lesson   by   the   Greek 
reception  of  their  Tractarian  envoy,   or  else  as  visited 
surely  by  the  spirit  of  Christian  wisdom  and  Christian 
love,     Newman     afterwards     modified     somewhat     his 
'  Samaria  '  effusion.     '  I  still  must  hold   that  we  have 
no  right  to  judge  of  others  at  this  day,  as  we  would  have 
judged  of  them  had  all  of  us  lived  a  thousand  years 
earlier.     I    do    really    think,    for   instance,    that    in    the 
Presbyterianism    of    Scotland    we    see    a    providential 
phenomenon,  the  growth  of  a  secondary  system  unknown 
to  St.  Austin  ;   begun,  indeed,  not  without  sin,  but  con- 
tinued, as  regards  the  many,  ignorantly,  and  compatibly 
with  some  portion  of  the  true  faith.'     Pitiful  enough, 
and  reprehensible  enough,  you  will  say,  in  such  a  man, . 
though  not  quite  so  insolent  as  the  original  '  Samaria. 
But  Newman  sometimes  came  to  himself.     And  when  in 
his  old  age  he  was  revising  some  of  the  Tractarian  out- 
bursts of  his  arrogant  and  hot-headed  youth,  he  is  com- 
pelled to  admit  again  and  again  that  he  had  no  justifica- 
tion for  a  great  deal  of  the  language  that  he  employed 
about  other  men  and  other  churches  in  the  Lyra.     '  Their 
common  bond  is  lack  of  truth,'  said  Manning,  to  Glad- 
stone's horror.     And,  really,  as  we  read  the  Lyra,  even 
in  the  cooled-down  air  of  our  remote  day,  we  are  some- 
times tempted  to  add  to  our  own  horror,  '  both  lack  of 

X 


322  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

truth  and  lack  of  love.'     But  a  truce  to  this.     For,  as 
^neas  replied  to  Achilles — 

Long  in  the  field  of  words  we  may  contend. 

Reproach  is  infinite,  and  knows  no  end, 

Arm'd  or  with  truth  or  falsehood,  right  or  wrong  : 

So  voluble  a  weapon  is  the  tongue  ; 

Wounded  we  wound,  and  neither  side  can  fail. 

For  every  man  has  equal  strength  to  rail. 

I  can  honestly  assure  you  I  have  no  pleasure  in  repeat- 
ing to  you  these  railings  of  Newman  and  his  Tractarian 
allies.  I  have  not  told  you  nearly  all,  nor  by  any  means 
the  worst,  of  that  kind.  I  could  not  help  telling  you 
somewhat,  if  I  was  to  tell  you  the  truth.  But  you  should 
judge  of  that  time,  and  of  the  spirit  of  that  time,  for 
yourselves.  And  you  have  an  admirable  opportunity 
for  studying  the  intellectual  and  moral  and  religious 
qualities  of  the  Lyra  at  least,  in  a  cheap,  scholarly, 
beautiful,  edition  of  that  book  just  published  by  Messrs. 
Methuen,  and  admirably  edited  by  Canon  Scott  Holland. 
The  little  volume  contains,  besides  the  editor's  very  able 
preface,  an  invaluable  Critical  Note  by  Professor  Beeching. 
Critical,  but  on  much  safer  and  much  pleasanter  lines  of 
criticism  than  those  I  have  been  compelled  to  go  out 
upon  in  passing. 

Very  much  what  the  Lyra  Apostolica  is  in  poetry,  that 
the  Tracts  for  the  Times  are  in  prose.  Like  the  Lyra,  the 
Tracts  are  the  productions  of  several  authors  ;  like  the 
Lyra,  the  Tracts  are  contingent  and  occasional ;  and, 
like  the  Lyra,  they  sway  backwards  and  forwards  from 
the  very  best  tempers  of  mind  and  styles  of  writing  to 
the  very  worst.  The  motto  of  the  Tracts  is  not  taken 
out  of  the  Iliad  indeed,  but  they  have  the  same  battle- 
note  and  boast  of  coming  war  in  them.     And,  following 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  323 

up  their  warlike  motto,  very  much  the  same  good  qualities 
are  found  in  the  Tracts  as  in  the  poems,  and  very  much 
the  same  bad  qualities.  Newman's  own  remarkable 
character ;  his  aristocratic,  refined,  fastidious,  severe, 
sometimes  scornful,  and  sometimes  fierce  and  reckless, 
temper,  finds  its  full  scope  in  the  Tracts,  just  as  it  does 
in  the  whole  of  the  Tractarian  movement,  and  in  the 
whole  of  its  literature. 

To  begin  with,  we  all  see  now  that  Newman,  in  his 
passionate  impetuosity, — '  vehement  feelings '  is  his 
own  expression, — rushed  into  the  battle  before  he  had 
proved  his  armour.  He  launched  out  into  the  great 
Tractarian  enterprise  very  ill  prepared  for  its  difficulties 
and  its  dangers.  In  a  very  able  paper  printed  in  the 
North  British  Review  for  October  1864,  Dr.  Rainy  has 
pointed  out  how  scandalously  ill-furnished  Newman  was 
for  what  he  set  out  on  with  such  confidence.  Dr.  Rainy 
shows  how  little  ballast  Newman  had  on  board,  either 
of  theological  learning,  or  of  a  disciplined  judgment, 
in  such  difficult  matters.  And  he  out  on  such  a  wide 
sea,  swept  with  such  storms,  and  liable  to  be  suddenly 
struck  with  such  unforeseen  currents.  'It  is  a  fact,' 
writes  Dr.  Rainy,  '  and  not  a  creditable  one,  that,  owing 
largely  to  the  want  of  regular  theological  training  in  the 
English  Church,  there  is  very  little  tuition,  and  very 
little  literature,  fitted  to  suggest  to  the  minds  of  her  young 
divines  the  range  of  theological  responsibilities  that 
may  attach  to  the  positions  they  take  up,  and  the  alter- 
natives they  embrace.  And  a  certain  allowance  may 
be  reasonable  on  that  score.'  Newman  himself,  indeed, 
in  his  own  candid  and  confidential  way,  admits  as  much 
in  his  Apologia.  He  confesses  to  us  that  he  was  '  taken 
in  '  by  those  who  should  have  known  better,  and  that 
he,   in   his   turn,   took  in   others.     He   sometimes   uses 


324  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

strong  language  about  himself  in  this  matter  when  in 
after  days  he  is  in  a  confidential  and  rhetorical  mood  ; 
but  Dr.  Rainy's  powerful  paper  only  proves  the  simple 
and  severe  truth  of  what  Newman,  sometimes  somewhat 
too  jauntily,  and  in  a  literary  way,  admits  about  himself. 
The  first  Tract  has  this  for  its  title-page  and  headline, 
'  Thoughts  on  the  Ministerial  Commission,  respectfully 
addressed  to  the  Clergy.'  And  its  author, — and  there 
is  no  mistaking  his  pen, — commences  thus  :  '  I  am  but 
one  of  yourselves — a  Presbyter  ;  and  therefore  I  con- 
ceal my  name,  lest  I  should  take  too  much  on  myself 
by  speaking  in  my  own  person.  Yet  speak  I  must  ;  for 
the  times  are  very  evil,  yet  no  one  speaks  against  them.' 
Now,  when  a  man  born  and  brought  up  as  Newman 
had  been  born  and  brought  up  ;  born  and  brought  up 
in  an  Evangelical  household,  and  educated  for  the 
Christian  ministry,  and  by  this  time  by  far  the  foremost 
preacher  in  the  English  Church  ;  and  with  England  and 
Oxford  in  the  state  they  were  still  in,  notwithstanding 
all  that  Whitefield,  and  the  Wesleys,  and  Newton,  and 
Scott,  had  done  ; — when  such  a  man  begins  a  series  of 
tracts  addressed  to  his  fellow-ministers  in  the  way  we 
have  seen,  I  would  have  looked  for  a  succession  of  writings 
that  would  have  been  meat  and  drink  to  every  true 
minister  of  Jesus  Christ  in  England.  I  see  now  that  it 
would  have  been  preposterous  and  impossible  to  expect 
such  a  service  from  a  man  in  the  fanatical  and  anti- 
evangelical  spirit  that  Newman  was  in  at  that  time. 
Yet  it  would  have  been  but  an  instance  of  believing  all 
things,  and  hoping  all  things,  to  have  looked  for  such 
a  result  as  I  have  described  from  such  a  commencement. 
With  that  charity  in  my  heart,  I  would  have  looked  for 
a  nineteenth-century  Reformed  Pastor  from  Newman's 
pen  ;  or  a  series  of  letters  worthy  to  stand  beside  William 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  325 

Law's  Letter  to  a  Young  Minister,  or  a  succession  of 
utterances  like  Jeremy  Taylor's  noble  Addresses  to  his 
clergy.  I  would  have  encouraged  myself  to  hope  that 
an  early  Tract  would  have  been  given  to  Bedford  ;  and, 
considering  the  state  of  the  rural  parishes  of  England 
at  that  time,  another  to  Kidderminster  ;  and,  still  con- 
sidering the  state  of  the  mining  villages  of  the  north, 
another  to  Wesley  and  his  truly  apostolic  work.  But 
how  bitterly  would  my  hopes  have  been  disappointed  ! 
For,  not  only  did  the  successors  of  those  apostolic  men 
get  no  help  from  the  Tracts,  but  their  New  Testament 
preaching  and  pastorate  were  in  every  possible  way  be- 
littled and  sneered  at ;  their  defects  and  failures  were 
dwelt  upon,  exaggerated,  and  held  up  to  scorn  and 
contempt,  in  a  way  you  would  not  credit.  Even  Hooker 
himself,  truly  Evangelical  as  he  was  at  heart,  was  so 
carried  away  with  the  controversy  to  which  he  had 
committed  himself,  that  even  he  spake  almost  as  un- 
becomingly of  the  Puritan  pulpit  as  Newman  and  Froude 
spake.  Both  the  high  Anglican  of  Hooker's  day,  and 
the  Tractarian  of  Newman's  day,  fell  before  the 
temptation  to  exalt  some  of  the  other  functions  of  the 
ministerial  commission  above  its  always  first,  and  always 
fundamental,  function,  even  the  immediate  and  urgent 
preaching  of  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified.  All  students 
for  the  Christian  pulpit,  and  all  occupants  of  the  Christian 
pulpit,  and  all  intelligent  Christian  men,  should  have  by 
heart  Coleridge's  noble  rebuke  of  Hooker  himself  in  this 
matter.  Coleridge's  splendid  services  to  Reformation 
and  Evangelical  religion  have  never  to  this  day  been 
adequately  acknowledged  in  England.  Coleridge's  in- 
comparable services  as  a  critic  and  an  annotator  were  not 
confined  to  Shakespeare  and  Milton.  I  like  him  best 
when  he  is  writing  notes  on  Luther,  and  Hooker,  and 


326  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

Taylor,  and  Baxter,  and  Bunyan,  and  '  A  Barrister '  ; 
but  that  prince  of  critics  is  nowhere  better  than  just  on 
Hooker  in  the  matter  in  hand.  Born  preachers,  Uke 
Hooker  and  Newman,  will  prove  themselves  to  be  born 
preachers,  all  pernicious  influences  notwithstanding. 
But  the  ordinary  occupant  of  the  Christian  pulpit  has 
small  need  to  have  his  divine  work  made  little  of  by  men 
to  whom  he  looks  up  as  his  masters  in  Israel.  And  when 
Newman  escapes  out  of  the  Tractarian  paddock,  and 
gives  full  expression  to  all  that  is  in  his  heart  about  the 
greatness  of  preaching,  how  nobly,  how  inspiringly,  how 
memorably  to  all  times,  he  speaks  !  How  like  himself  ! 
But,  from  some  of  the  Tracts,  you  would  actually  think 
that  the  Evangelical  pulpit  had  been  an  evil  invention 
of  the  Puritans,  and  that  the  doctrines  of  grace  were  a 
device,  if  not  actually  of  the  great  enemy  himself,  then  of 
some  of  those  middle  and  half-fallen  spirits  of  his  who 
sometimes  take  possession  of  nations  and  churches,  and 
of  whom  Newman  has  written  such  characteristic  chapters 
of  national  and  ecclesiastical  demonology.  At  the  same 
time,  and  with  all  that,  let  this  be  said  here,  and  said  with 
all  possible  emphasis,  and  with  the  most  profound  thank- 
fulness, that  the  Tractarian  pulpit  and  press  are  at  one 
with  the  Apostolical  and  Reformed  and  Evangehcal  pulpit 
and  press  on  the  great  foundation-stones  and  corner-stones 
of  the  Christian  faith.  On  God  ;  on  the  Son  of  God  ; 
on  the  sin-atoning  death  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  and  on  the 
Person,  if  not  always  on  the  work,  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
It  is  at  this  crucial  question  in  the  Westminster  Shorter 
Catechism  that  the  Evangelical  and  the  Tractarian 
pulpits  part  company.  This  question — '  How  doth  the 
Spirit  apply  to  us  the  redemption  purchased  by  Christ  ?  ' 
The  Evangelical,  and  I  feel  sure,  the  Scriptural,  if  not 
the  patristic  and  traditionary  and  ecclesiastical  answer 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  327 

is  :  'By  our  effectual  calling ;  that  is  to  say,  by  enlighten- 
ing our  minds  in  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  by  renewing 
our  wills,  and  by  persuading  and  enabling  us  to  embrace 
Jesus  Christ  as  He  is  offered  to  us  in  the  Gospel.'  And, 
then,  baptism  comes  in,  as  in  Scripture  it  comes  in,  as 
a  sign  and  a  seal  of  what  has  already  been  wrought  by 
the  hand  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  renewed  soul.  And, 
then,  the  Lord's  Supper  comes  in  from  time  to  time  to 
strengthen  and  to  build  up  the  renewed  and  believing 
soul.  Whereas,  the  Tractarian  teaching  is — leaning  too 
much,  as  it  does,  on  the  least  Evangelical  of  the  fathers, 
on  the  least  Evangelical  line  of  tradition — that  the  soul 
is  united  to  Christ  in  baptism,  when  that  ordinance  is 
administered  by  the  hand  of  a  true  priest,  through 
whose  hand  alone  the  Holy  Ghost  may  be  expected  to 
operate.  And  so  begun,  so  on.  Newman  tells  one  of  his 
correspondents  in  1833,  that  he  has  started  the  Tracts 
with  what  he  calls  '  an  indirect  inculcation  of  apostolical 
principles.'  But  if  he  was  quite  sure  that  they  were 
'  apostolical  principles,'  why  did  he  feel  any  need  to 
inculcate  them  indirectly  ?  The  Lyra  also,  he  tells  us 
in  confidence,  was  undertaken  '  with  a  view  of  catching 
people  when  unguarded.'  Now,  after  all  allowance  is 
made  for  his  paradoxicalness,  and  playfulness,  and 
banter,  in  his  private  letters  to  his  intimate  friends,  these 
somewhat  remarkable  terms  of  expression,  in  the  cir- 
cumstances, have  their  own  significance.  Mr.  Holt 
Hutton,  no  Puritan  certainly,  either  in  the  doctrine  or 
the  discipline  he  preached  in  the  Spectator  for  so  long 
and  with  such  attractiveness  and  power,  while  he  almost 
worships  Newman,  honestly  admits  that  the  Tractarian 
was  essentially  a  clerical  movement — clerical  to  the  core, 
is  his  very  word  about  it.  And  he  goes  on  to  make,  for 
him,  this  very  remarkable  admission  that  '  the  Tractarian 


328  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

was  a  much  more  pronounced  and  self-conscious,  not  to 
say  almost  aggressive  and  over-pretentious,  type  of 
sacerdotalism,  than  that  of  a  Church  wherein  direct 
Apostolical  Succession  had  been  the  plainly  and  univer- 
sally avowed  basis  of  the  priesthood  for  nearly  two 
thousand  years.'  In  short,  that  Tractarianism  was  more 
Popish  than  Popery  itself.  There  is  a  large  literature 
on  the  Notes  of  the  True  and  Only  Apostolic  Church, 
and  the  Tracts  for  the  Times  belong  to  that  literature, 
and  are  almost  wholly  taken  up  with  those  Notes.  But, 
then,  over  against  that  large  literature  there  is  a  not 
small  and  a  not  unmasterly  literature  on  the  Notes  of 
the  truly  Regenerate  and  Gracious  Soul.  In  Baxter's 
SainVs  Rest,  an  English  classic,  there  is  a  characteristically 
acute  chapter  on  those  notes  and  marks  and  tokens 
of  such  a  soul.  The  thoroughgoing  student  of  these 
subjects — and  they  will  repay  such  a  student — will  do  well 
to  master  Baxter  alongside  of  the  Tracts  ;  and  he  should 
add  to  Baxter  an  old  Scottish  classic  republished  the  other 
day  in  Inverness,  which  once  read,  will  be  often  returned 
to — The  Memoirs  of  James  Fraser  of  Brea.  And  I  will 
not  prejudge  this  matter  to  such  a  student,  but  will 
leave  him  to  say  whether  or  no  the  Tractarians  are  as 
Scriptural,  and  as  able,  and  as  scholarly,  and  as  sancti- 
fying, in  their  identification  of  the  Church,  as  the  Puritans 
are  in  their  identification  of  the  soul.  Let  the  Anglican 
student  master  Baxter  and  Brea,  and  let  the  Evangelical 
student  master  the  Tracts  for  the  Times,  and  then  they 
will  judge  for  themselves  between  the  Church  and  the 
soul. 

Newman's  sermons,  of  which  all  the  world  has  heard 
the  fame,  are  contained  in  twelve  volumes.  There  are 
eight    volumes    of    Parochial   and    Plain    Sermons,    one 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  329 

volume  of  Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Day,  one  volume 
of  University  Sermons,  and  two  volumes  of  Roman 
Catholic  Sermons — the  one  volume  entitled  Sermons  to 
Mixed  Congregations,  and  the  other  Sermons  'preached  on 
Various  Occasions.  The  very  titles  of  Newman's  sermons 
are  a  study  in  homiletics.  To  read  and  ponder  his  simple 
titles  is  a  stimulus  to  the  mind  of  the  ministerial  reader. 
A  carpenter  friend  of  mine  once  told  me  that  sometimes  on 
a  Sabbath  night  he  took  down  the  selected  volume  of  New- 
man's sermons  just  for  the  benefit  and  the  delight  of  reading 
over  their  titles.  To  read  Longmans'  detailed  catalogue 
of  Newman's  Parochial,  and  University,  and  Catholic 
Sermons  is  in  itself  a  great  lesson  in  pulpit  literature. 
Looked  at  as  pure  literature,  Newman's  St.  Mary's 
sermons  are  not  far  from  absolute  perfection  ;  but  looked 
at  as  pulpit  work,  as  preaching  the  Gospel,  they  are  full 
of  the  most  serious,  and  even  fatal,  defects.  With  all 
their  genius,  with  all  their  truly  noble  and  enthralling 
characteristics,  they  are  not,  properly  speaking,  New 
Testament  preaching  at  all.  Even  as  pure  literature 
their  most  serious  fault  steals  in  and  infects  and  stains 
them.  The  very  best  of  the  sermons  are  continually 
tainted  with  some  impertinent  aside  at  some  Evangelical 
truth,  or  at  some  real,  or  imagined,  or  greatly  exag- 
gerated, defects  in  the  doctrine  or  in  the  life  of  the 
Evangelical  preachers  of  his  day.  All  the  world  knows 
how  poor  Kingsley  was  annihilated.  But  though  I 
cannot  forget  his  terrible  punishment,  neither  can  I 
forget  his  extraordinarily  apt  description  of  this  most 
unpleasant  feature  in  Newman's  controversial  manner, 
especially  in  his  sermons.  Newman  is  too  skilful  a  con- 
troversialist to  discharge  his  assault  from  a  catapult, 
as  he  accused  Dr.  Pusey  of  discharging  his  olive  branch. 
Newman's  style  sings  round  you,  musical  and  delicate  as 


330  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

a  mosquito's  wing,  and  alights  on  you  with  feet  as  fine. 
In  Kingsley's  very  words,  which  so  detected  and  angered 
Newman,  a  phrase,  an  epithet,  a  Uttle  barbed  arrow, 
will  be  delivered  on  you  in  passing  as  with  his  finger-tip. 
Nothing  could  be  better  said  of  Newman's  treatment  of 
Evangelical  doctrines  and  Evangelical  preachers  in  many 
of  his  sermons.  How  often  his  most  admiring  and 
revering  reader  is  made  to  feel  both  pain  and  shame  as 
he  comes  across  such  stains  as  these,  and  that  on  pages 
otherwise  of  the  most  perfect  truth  and  beauty.  New- 
man's sermons,  in  some  respects,  are  simply  incom- 
parable in  the  literature  of  preaching.  As  an  analysis 
of  the  heart  of  man,  and  as  a  penetrating  criticism  of 
human  life,  their  equal  is  nowhere  to  be  found.  But, 
with  all  that,  they  lack  the  one  all-essential  element  of 
all  true  preaching — the  message  to  sinful  man  concern- 
ing the  free  grace  of  God.  That  message  was  the  one 
thing  that  differentiated  the  Apostle's  preaching  from 
all  the  other  so-called  preaching  of  his  day.  And  that 
one  thing  which  has  been  the  touchstone  of  all  true 
preaching  ever  since  the  Apostle's  day,  and  will  be  to  the 
end  of  the  world, — that  is  all  but  totally  lacking  in  New- 
man's sermons.  It  is  a  bold  thing  to  say,  but  let  it  be 
said  since  it  is  true,  that  the  St.  Mary's  sermons  are  like 
the  Lyra  and  the  Tracts  in  this,  that  they  are  the  out- 
come of  a  movement  and  of  an  occasion  ;  and  so  far  as 
they  are  that,  they  are  neither  truly  Catholic  as  sermons, 
nor  truly  classical  as  literature.  At  their  best  they  carry 
with  them  the  limitations  and  the  restrictions  of  a  school. 
They  are  the  manifestoes  and  the  proclamations  of  a 
party,  and  they  too  often  exhibit  the  spirit  and  the  temper 
of  a  party.  So  much  so,  that  with  all  their  royal  right 
and  power  of  giving  the  law  to  English  homiletical 
and   rhetorical   literature ;    with  all   their,  not  seldom, 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  331 

sovereign  splendour  of  thought  and  style  ;  and  though, 
in  all  these  fine  qualities,  they  may  last  as  long  as  the 
language  lasts  ;  at  the  same  time,  they  will  not  be  fully 
understood  where  the  Tractarian  movement  is  not  under- 
stood. They  will  be  read  for  their  literature,  as  the 
Lyra  and  as  some  of  the  Tracts  are  read  ;  but  thousands 
of  hints,  and  touches,  and  turns  in  them,  directed  by  the 
preacher  against  the  religion  of  the  England  and  Scotland 
of  his  day,  will  only  be  fully  apprehended  and  appreciated 
by  theologians  and  ecclesiastical  students.  When  we 
do  come  on  a  truly  Pauline  and  Evangelical  sermon, 
or  such  a  part  of  a  sermon,  what  a  treat  it  is  !  what  a 
pure  intellectual  and  spiritual  joy  !  But  how  seldom 
that  unmixed  joy  comes  to  the  reader  of  Newman's 
sermons,  only  they  know  who  yearn  above  all  things  to 
see  the  greatest  of  gifts  engaged  in  the  greatest  of  services. 
The  finer  and  the  more  fastidious  your  mind  is,  the 
more  you  will  enjoy  Newman's  sermons.  But  the  more 
burdened  and  broken  your  heart  is,  and  especially  with 
your  secret  sinfulness,  the  less  will  you  find  in  them  that 
which,  above  all  things  in  heaven  or  earth,  your  heart 
needs.  Had  the  substance  and  the  spirit  of  Newman's 
sermons  been  but  half  as  good  as  their  style,  what  a 
treasure  the  St.  Mary's  sermons  would  have  been  to  all 
time  !  As  it  is,  they  are  a  splendid  literature  in  many 
respects  ;  but  one  thing  they  are  not,  they  are  not  what 
God  intends  the  Gospel  of  His  Son  to  be  to  all  sinful 
and  miserable  men.  After  all  is  said  in  praise  of  these 
extraordinary  sermons,  this  remains,  that  Newman's 
constant  doctrine  is  that  doctrine  which  the  Apostle 
discarded  with  anathemas, — salvation  by  works,  whether 
legal  or  evangelical  works.  And  almost  more  did  he 
discard  and  denounce  salvation  by  austerities,  by 
gratuitous  self-severities,   and  by  fear  rather  than  by 


332  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

faith,  and  that  faith  working  by  love,  and  peace,  and  joy. 
When  I  am  again  overtaken  of  one  of  my  besetting  sins  ; 
when  the  sorrows  of  death  again  compass  me,  and  the 
pains  of  hell  take  hold  of  me,  I  never  take  down  New- 
man's sermons  for  my  recovery  and  my  comfort.  For 
Newman's  preaching — and  I  say  it  M'ith  more  pain 
than  I  can  express — never  once  touches  the  true  core, 
and  real  and  innermost  essence,  of  the  Gospel.  The 
Epistle  to  the  Romans,  the  '  Acropolis,'  as  Olshausen 
calls  it,  of  the  Gospel,  need  never  have  been  written  as 
far  as  Newman's  exposition  of  it  is  concerned.  The 
Righteousness  of  Christ,  of  which  that  glorious  Epistle 
is  full,  need  never  have  been  worked  out  by  Him  for  all 
that  those  enthralled  audiences  in  St.  Mary's  ever  heard 
of  it.  There  is  a  whole  shining  chain  of  Gospel  texts  that 
Newman  never  touches  on,  or  only  touches  on  them — I 
shrink  from  saying  it — to  misread  them  and  misapply 
them.  Moses  was  never  dressed  up  in  such  ornaments 
before  ;  never  even  in  his  own  day  and  dispensation. 
The  old  lawgiver  would  not  know  himself,  he  is  so 
beautified  and  bedecked  by  Newman's  style.  But,  all  the 
time,  he  is  Moses.  All  the  time,  with  all  his  ornaments, 
he  still  carries  his  whip  of  scorpions  hidden  away  among 
his  beautiful  garments.  Do  and  live  !  Disobey  and 
die  !  and  he  draws  his  sword  on  me  as  he  says  it.  Mount 
of  Transfiguration  and  all,  Moses  has  not  changed  his 
nature  one  iota,  nor  his  voice  one  accent,  at  least  not  as 
far  as  Newman's  Oxford  pulpit  is  concerned.  '  The  soul 
that  sinneth  it  shall  die  '  is,  somewhere  or  other,  and  in 
some  more  or  less  musical  note  or  other,  in  every  sermon 
of  Newman's.  The  sinner-condemning  law  is  his  mark 
in  every  sermon,  and  tract,  and  Lyra  verse,  of  his.  So 
much  is  this  the  case,  that  when  any  of  my  class  or 
congregation  come  to  tell  me  that,  at  last,  their  sin  has 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  333 

found  them  out,  and  ask  me  what  book  they  will  hence- 
forth keep  beside  them  for  their  direction  and  comfort, — 
do  you  think  I  ever  give  them  Newman's  Lectures  on 
Justification,  or  even  a  volume  of  his  Parochial  and  Plain 
Sermons  ?  I  wish  I  could.  I  have  given  not  a  few  of 
Newman's  books  to  young  men  in  other  circumstances, 
and  at  other  stages, — The  Idea  of  a  University,  the 
Historical  Sketches,  the  Athanasius,  the  Universiiij 
Sermons,  the  Gerontius,  and  so  on  ;  but  never  one  of  his 
beautiful  books  to  a  broken-hearted  and  inconsolable 
sinner.  I  have  often  given  to  men  in  dead  earnest,  books 
of  the  heart  and  soul  that  Newman  and  his  Tractarian 
school  would  scorn  to  name  :  The  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
Grace  Abounding,  The  Ten  Virgins,  Christ  Dying,  The 
Trial  and  Triumph  of  Faith,  The  Gospel  Mystery,  the 
Cardiphonia,  The  Force  of  Truth,  the  Marroiv,  Chalmers's 
Life,  IIalyburton''s  Life,  Boston's  Life,  M'CJieyne's  Life, 
the  Olney  Hymns,  Hart's  Hymns,  a  sermon  of  Spurgeon's, 
a  tract  of  Ryle's  ;  but  a  volume  of  Newman's  never  ; 
no  nor  the  Lyra  Apostolica,  nor  c^'en  the  Christian  Year, 

Newman's  Tractarian  and  unevangelical  preaching 
always  sends  me  back  to  his  conversion.  You  know 
what  he  says  about  his  conversion  himself,  and  in  what 
memorable  English.  I  will  not  venture  to  tell  you  all 
that  I  sometimes  think  and  feel  about  that  conversion. 
I  will  not  take  it  upon  me  to  say  that  Newman  never 
was,  root  and  branch,  mind  and  conscience,  imagination 
and  heart,  completely  converted  and  completely  sur- 
rendered up  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  alone  Redeemer  and 
Righteousness  of  sinful  men.  Only,  I  have  sometimes 
pictured  to  myself  what  an  eloquent,  impressive,  and 
unanswerable  case  the  author  of  the  Apologia  could  have 
made  out  against  himself  ever  having  been  apostolically 
and  evangelically  converted  at  all, — had  he  set  himself 


334  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

to  make  out  such  a  case.  And  if,  in  his  restless  versa- 
tihty  of  mind,  Newman  had  ever  turned  to  be  an  Agnostic, 
say,  and  had  he  then  gone  back,  and  reviewed,  and 
examined,  and  repudiated,  his  position  and  his  experi- 
ence as  a  convert  to  Christ,  as  he  has  reviewed,  and 
examined,  and  repudiated,  his  position  and  his  experience 
as  an  Anghcan ;  had  he  added  another  chapter  of 
retractation  and  explanation  to  his  Autobiography,  he 
could  easily  have  made  out  an  unanswerable  case  against 
the  reality  and  the  validity  of  what  he  had  at  one  time 
rejoiced  in  as  his  complete  and  abiding  conversion.  He 
would  have  admitted  that  he  became  a  genuine  Theist, 
even  in  his  boyhood,  if  ever  there  was  a  Theist.  He 
would  have  copied  into  his  second  Apologia  that  classical 
page  in  his  first  Apologia,  in  which  he  tells  us  with  what 
intensity  of  faith  and  feeling  he  came  to  realise  to  him- 
self the  existence  and  the  omnipresence  of  God.  And 
how,  from  that  profound  and  overpowering  conviction 
and  impression  of  the  presence  of  God,  his  heart  never 
swerved  for  one  hour.  And  not  only  was  he  a  great 
believer  in  the  existence  and  the  nearness  of  Almighty 
God  ;  but,  as  time  went  on,  and  as  his  patristic  studies 
began  to  bear  their  proper  fruit,  he  came  to  believe  also, 
and  to  preach,  those  two  foundation  doctrines  of  the 
Christian  faith — our  Lord's  Divine  Sonship  and  His 
substitutionary  and  sin-atoning  death — as  they  have 
seldom,  if  ever,  been  preached.  But  Newman  would 
have  claimed  for  his  honesty,  and  it  would  have  given 
him  a  fine  scope  for  his  subtlety  of  mind  and  for  his 
delight  in  distinctions,  to  have  made  it  out  to  demon- 
stration that,  at  his  best,  he  never  went  further  than  the 
strictly  limited  doctrine  of  the  Fathers  on  the  Person 
and  the  Work  of  Christ.  And  the  real  distinction,  and 
characteristic  difference,  of  a  Pauline  convert,  he  would 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  335 

have  pressed  upon  us,  is  not  that  he  luminously  believes 
in  the  existence  and  the  nearness  of  his  Creator,  and  his 
Lawgiver,  and  his  Judge  :  or  even  in  the  Incarnation  and 
Atonement  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  then  submits  himself 
to  a  life  of  self-chosen  austerities  and  self-denials  ;  but 
he  is  the  true  Pauline  believer  who  submits  himself, 
as  Paul  could  not  get  his  converts  to  do,  and  to  continue 
to  do,  to  be  justified  before  God,  first  and  last,  by  the 
imputed  righteousness  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  by  that 
alone.  Newman  could  easily  have  filled  an  unanswerable 
chapter  of  his  new  Apologia  with  a  long  catena  of  passages 
out  of  his  St.  Mary's  sermons,  in  which,  with  all  his 
winning  eloquence,  and  with  all  his  silencing  argumenta- 
tions, he  persistently  put  forward  works  where  Paul 
puts  faith  ;  and  merit  where  Paul  puts  grace  ;  and  doubt 
and  fear  where  Paul  puts  love  and  hope  and  full  assur- 
ance. Passage  after  passage  in  which  he  employed  all 
his  incomparable  powers  of  sarcasm  against  the  Reforma- 
tion preaching  of  Paul's  palmary  doctrine  of  justification 
by  faith  alone  ;  a  doctrine  that  the  chief  of  the  Apostles 
protested  continually  was  his  special  and  peculiar  Gospel ; 
and,  indeed,  that  there  is  no  other  Gospel  to  be  called 
a  Gospel.  Newman  could  have  boldly  and  successfully 
defied  any  Lutheran  or  Calvinist  of  us  all,  to  point  out 
one  single  sermon  of  his  on  the  Righteousness  of  Christ, 
or  on  faith,  or  on  love,  that  we  could  suppose  Paul 
preaching,  or  sitting  still  to  hear  preached.  How  could 
a  man  be  truly  converted,  Newman  would  have  triumph- 
antly demanded,  at  any  rate,  as  you  Lutherans  and 
Calvinists  call  conversion,  who  wrote  a  whole  eloquent 
volume  utterly  to  discredit  Luther,  and  Calvin,  and  the 
other  Reformers,  and  never  retracted  it  ?  'If  Luther  is 
right,'  Newman  would  have  said  in  his  own  dialectic 
and  dilemma  way,  '  then  I  never  stood  within  a  standing 


336  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

Church  at  all.  For  Luther  will  have  nothing  to  do,  as 
he  continually  exclaims,  with  a  God  who  is  not,  first 
and  last,  to  be  found  in  Christ,  and  to  be  treated  with 
only  in  Christ.  And  so  much  as  the  name  of  Christ,  as 
all  my  readers  must  have  seen,  is  not  once  to  be  found 
in  all  the  impressive  record  of  my  supposed  conversion ; 
much  less  His  imjsuted  and  sinner- justifying  righteous- 
ness.' If  Newman  aad  changed  again,  and  had  lived 
to  write  a  chapter  like  that,  he  would  have  written  it 
ten  times  stronger  than  that,  and  in  a  hundred  times 
more  unanswerable  English.  No  ;  Newman  never  was 
converted  as  John  Wesley,  say,  was  converted.  And  as  a 
consequence,  among  all  Newman's  St.  Mary's  sermons, 
he  never  preached  a  single  sermon  like  John  Wesley's 
famous  St.  Mary's  sermon  on  the  text,  '  By  grace  ye  are 
saved  through  faith.'  A  sermon  preached  in  all  the 
fulness  and  freshness  of  Wesley's  at  last  full,  and  still 
fresh,  conversion.  All  men,  says  Coleridge,  are  born 
either  Platonists  or  Aristotelians,  and  what  they  are 
once  born,  with  all  their  changes,  they  remain  and  die. 
And  Newman,  in  the  matter  of  Pauline  truth,  was  born 
what  he  died.  Evangelical  birth  and  upbringing,  so- 
called  Calvinistic  conversion,  and  all,  Newman's  very 
heart  of  hearts  never,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  got  her 
complete  divorce,  to  use  Paul's  great  word,  from  the 
dominion  of  the  law.  Newman's  Maker,  and  Lawgiver, 
and  Judge  was,  all  his  days,  far  more  self-luminous  to 
Newman  than  his  only  Redeemer  with  His  sin-cleansing 
blood,  and  with  His  sinner- justifying  righteousness.  He 
tells  us  himself  that  He  who  is  our  only  peace  was  always 
severe  to  him,  even  on  his  crucifix.  Newman  never,  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  was  dead  to  the  law  by  the  body 
of  Christ,  as  Paul  was,  and  as  Luther  was,  that  man  after 
Paul's  own  heart.     But,  then,  Luther  was  not  a  '  Father,' 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  337 

he  was  only  '  the  founder  of  a  school.'  And  how  could 
Newman,  a  born  Romanist,  surrender  himself  to  the 
teaching  of  the  deadliest  enemy  that  ever  rose  up  against 
Rome  since  Paul  rose  up  and  wrote  his  Epistles  to  the 
Romans  and  to  the  Galatians  ? 

Every  intelligent  Evangelical  will  be  forward  to  admit 
how  much  the  Evangelical  pulpit  needed  in  Newman's 
day,  and  still  needs,  all  Newman's  genius,  all  his  scholar- 
ship, all  the  winningness  of  his  character,  and  all  his  rare 
and  splendid  talents,  in  order  to  commend  the  Gospel 
message  to  men  of  taste,  as  John  Foster  has  said.  And 
had  Newman  but  run  as  well  as  he  began,  what  a  rank 
he  would  have  attained  to  in  the  Church  of  Christ  !  Had 
he  kept  true  to  his  first  faith,  and  had  he  devoted  his 
superb  abilities  to  the  enriching  and  the  ennobling  of 
the  Evangelical  faith  and  life  and  literature  of  England, 
what  a  long-shining  name  he  would  have  left  behind 
him  ;  and  that  not  only  in  the  world  of  letters,  but 
above  all,  in  the  true  Church  of  Christ — the  Church  of 
Christ  Reformed  and  Evangelical !  At  this  point  take 
these  two  letters  written  in  1826,  while  as  yet  he  was 
preaching  Evangelical  sermons  and  sending  them  now 
and  then  to  his  Huguenot  mother  to  read.  '  I  assure 
you,'  his  happy  mother  writes,  '  your  sermons  are  a  real 
comfort  and  delight  to  me.  They  are  what  I  think 
sermons  ought  to  be— to  enlighten,  to  comfort,  to  correct, 
to  support,  to  strengthen.  It  is,  my  dear,  a  great  gift 
to  see  so  clearly  the  truths  of  religion  ;  still  more,  to  be 
able  to  impart  the  knowledge  to  others.'  '  These  tender 
and  happy  mother's  letters,'  says  his  sister  in  editing 
his  Correspondence,  '  are  given  for  a  purpose  which  the 
reader  will  understand  as  time  advances.  Even  now 
their  tone  is  too  confiding  to  be  allowed  to  pass  without 
some  touch  of  warning.'     And  his  sister  introduces  the 

Y 


338  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

following  passage  from  one  of  Newman's  letters  to  his 
mother  as  a  touch  of  warning  :  '  I  am  pleased  you  like 
my  sermons.  I  am  sure  I  need  not  caution  you  against 
taking  anything  I  say  on  trust.  Do  not  be  run  away 
with  by  any  opinion  of  mine.  I  have  seen  cause  to 
change  my  mind  in  some  respects,  and  I  may  change 
again.'  Not  a  very  happy  letter  for  a  mother  to  read 
from  the  hand  of  a  minister-son.  But,  as  his  sister  says, 
it  was  intended  as  a  touch  of  warning  of  what  might 
come  to  his  mother  hereafter.  And  which  came,  only 
too  soon,  to  her  great  sorrow. 

'  In  my  University  Sermons  there  is  a  series  of  dis- 
cussions upon  the  subject  of  Faith  and  Reason  ;  these, 
again,  were  the  tentative  commencement  of  a  great  and 
necessary  work,  viz.  an  inquiry  into  the  ultimate  basis 
of  religious  faith,  prior  to  the  distinction  into  creeds.' 
Now,  it  is  not  the  ultimate  basis  of  faith,  but  the  proxi- 
mate outcome  and  finishing  work  of  faith,  that  I  specially 
take  to  do  with ;  and  neither  in  his  University  Sermons, 
nor  in  his  Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons,  does  Newman 
give  me  any  help  at  all  in  that.  I  cannot  follow  him 
into  his  philosophical  discussions  as  to  all  the  relations 
of  faith  and  reason.  Dr.  Martineau,  Dr.  Fairbairn, 
Dr.  Abbott,  and  others,  have  descended  into  that  deep 
arena,  and,  to  my  mind,  they  have  won  the  battle.  Let 
the  debate  be  read  by  all  who  arc  interested  in  it,  and  are 
able  to  read  it.  The  subject  of  the  ultimate  basis  of 
faith  is  beyond  my  powers.  That  is  not  my  region  at 
all.  I  lose  myself  down  there.  I  cannot  keep  my  feet 
down  there.  It  is  altogether  out  of  my  depth.  But 
as  much  as  these  champions  complain  to  have  found 
Newman  at  fault  in  those  deep  places,  as  much  do  I 
complain  against  him  up  in  my  own  field.     Newman  is 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  339 

always  assailing  and  blaming  reason.  Now,  my  reason 
is  all  right.  My  reason  partakes  indeed  in  the  universal 
debility  of  my  whole  inner  man  ;  but  the  seat  of  my 
evil  is  not  in  my  reason,  but  in  my  heart.  If  my  heart 
were  as  sound  in  its  offices  and  operations  as  my  reason, 
I  would  be  nothing  short  of  a  saint.  But  I  have  an 
evil  heart  of  unbelief,  that  even  my  reason  continually 
condemns  and  abhors.  And  it  is  in  helping  me  with  the 
unbelief  of  my  heart  that  Newman  so  fails  me.  With 
the  unbelief  of  my  heart,  that  is,  as  regards  its  highest 
and  best  Object,  Jesus  Christ,  as  my  righteousness  and 
my  strength.  '  The  relation  of  faith  to  reason,'  says 
Dr.  Martineau,  '  is  traced  by  Newman  with  a  fineness 
and  general  truth  of  discrimination  that  remind  us  of 
Butler.  Newman  does  not  narrow  faith  to  the  Lutheran 
dimensions,  that  is  to  say,  to  denote  a  reliant  affection 
toward  a  person  ;  to  imply  a  grace  peculiar  to  the 
Christian  and  Jewish  dispensations.'  And  I  find  Baur 
in  his  great  book  on  Paul  employing  the  very  same  word, 
though  with  another  motive.  '  Thus,'  he  says,  '  the 
object  of  faith  is  narrowed  in  Paul  stage  by  stage  ;  and 
in  proportion  as  this  is  done,  the  faith  becomes  more 
intense  and  inward.  From  mere  theoretical  assent  it 
becomes  a  practical  trust  in  which  the  man's  deepest 
needs  find  expression  till  it  has  for  its  object  the  Blood 
of  Christ.'  Now,  in  these  passages  Dr.  Martineau  and 
Dr.  Baur  have  supplied  me  with  the  very  expression  that 
will  best  bring  to  a  point  the  great  fault  I  find  with 
Newman  ;  and  that  not  in  his  University  and  Philosophical 
Sermons  only,  but  quite  as  much  in  his  Parochial  and 
Plain  Sermons.  No ;  Newman  does  not  narrow  the 
faith  he  preaches  to  the  Pauline  and  Lutheran  dimensions. 
Would  God  he  did  !  Would  God  he  did  narrow  ;  or, 
rather,  did  exalt,  and  did  perfect,  and  did  finish,  faith. 


340  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

and  make  it  to  find  its  everlasting  rest  and  its  reliant  and 
affiant  operation  and  affection  in  Jesus  Christ !  In  that 
Person  for  whom,  from  its  ultimate  basis,  on  to  its  most 
exquisite  finish  and  most  perfect  fulness,  faith  is  created 
in  the  mind  and  in  the  heart  of  every  true  believer. 
The  true  and  perfect  faith  of  the  Pauline  theology  and 
anthropology,  embraces,  to  begin  with,  both  Butler's 
and  Newman's  and  Martineau's  philosophical  faith. 
But  true  saving  faith  still  ascends  in  Baur  and  in  Luther, 
with  adoring  eyes  and  uplifted  hands,  to  embrace  Jesus 
Christ  as  He  is  offered  to  such  faith  in  the  Gospel.  And 
this  faith,  or  rather  the  heart  in  which  such  faith  is  seated, 
casts  itself  upon  Jesus  Christ  with  a  love,  and  an  assur- 
ance, and  a  peace  that  passes  all  understanding ;  of 
which  love  and  assurance  and  peace  Newman  has  next 
to  nothing  to  say  to  me  in  all  his  sermons.  Saving  faith 
is  such,  and  is  so  divine,  both  in  its  origin,  in  its  opera- 
tions, and  in  its  results,  that  nothing,  not  the  best  thing 
in  heaven  or  in  earth,  will  ever  be  permitted  to  take  its 
place.  All  the  works,  both  legal  and  evangelical,  that 
Jew,  or  Greek,  or  Papist,  or  Tractarian,  or  Puritan,  ever 
performed,  will  not  be  permitted  to  take  the  place  of 
faith  alone,  and  will  not  be  allowed  to  invade  its  great 
province,  no,  not  by  a  hair's-breadth.  Because  that 
would  be  invading  Christ  alone.  Work,  fast,  pray, 
afflict  body  and  mind  and  heart,  and  all  else  that  terror 
and  love  ever  led  you  to  do,  all  is  but  loss  compared  with 
faith ;  in  other  words,  compared  with  Christ.  Faith 
first,  faith  last,  faith  always,  faith  only  ;  in  other  words, 
Christ.  Luther  and  the  great  Puritans  have  taught  a 
far  away  more  Scriptural  and  a  far  away  more  Evangelical 
doctrine  of  faith  and  of  Christ  than  is  to  be  found  in  the 
very  best  of  Newman's  sermons.  And  it  is  a  faith,  as  I 
have  said,  whose  enemy  and  opposite  is  not  reason  at 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  841 

all ;  but  is  an  evil  heart,  full  of  doubt  and  fear  of  God, 
and  of  unbelief  against  God's  Son.  A  faith,  indeed, 
that  works  by  love  ;  but,  better  than  that,  it  works  and 
has  its  greatest  triumphs  when  love  is  dead ;  for  it 
restores  our  dead  love  to  newness  of  life.  A  faith  that 
performs  feats  in  the  soul,  and  for  the  salvation  of  the 
soul,  that  love,  at  its  best,  could  not  attempt.  No  ; 
true  faith  is  never  the  enemy  of  anything  that  is  worthy 
to  be  called  reason.  True  faith  is  the  enemy  of  a  corrupt, 
a  proud,  an  ungodly,  and  an  unchristian  heart,  and  the 
enemy  of  that  heart  alone. 

Newman's  two  volumes  of  Roman  Catholic  sermons 
are  in  many  ways  very  unlike  his  Anglican  sermons. 
Over  and  above  the  new  note  of  certitude  and  finality 
that  was  to  be  expected  in  them  ;  over  and  above  the 
complete  disapjjearance  of  that  provisional,  precaution- 
ary, pioneering,  attitude  that  Newman  so  much  took 
up  in  his  St.  Mary's  sermons  ;  there  are  some  other  new 
features  in  his  Catholic  sermons  that  both  surprise  the 
student  of  Newman's  mind,  and  demand  his  explana- 
tion of  these  remarkable  alterations  in  Newman's  mind 
and  work.  For  one  thing,  there  is  far  less  bitterness  and 
unfairness  to  his  opponents  when  he  becomes  con- 
troversial. His  temper  has  improved.  He  is  more 
genial,  if  not  more  generous.  The  too  frequent  tone  of 
irritation  and  impatience,  the  far  too  frequent  slings  of 
scorn  and  contempt,  have  all  but  vanished.  Also,  his 
pulpit  wings  now  spread  out  and  bear  the  preacher  aloft, 
as  never  before.  He  has  a  far  larger  horizon  before  the 
eye  of  his  imagination,  and  he  surveys  a  far  larger  scope 
behind  and  before  and  all  around.  At  his  best  he  was 
a  tethered  eagle  in  St.  Mary's  pulpit ;  he  is  now  the 
untrammelled    sovereign    of    the    whole    spiritual    sky. 


342  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

To  use  his  own  words  about  himself — formerly  he  was 
like  a  traveller  by  night,  calculating  and  guessing  his 
way  over  a  morass,  losing  all  his  confidence,  if  not  all 
his  hope.  But  the  Kindly  Light  that  he  so  pathetically 
invoked  when  he  was  still  in  the  midst  of  the  morass, 
has  now  risen  upon  the  wayfarer  and  has  led  him  to  his 
rest,  and  his  Catholic  sermons  are  the  product  and  the 
evidence  of  that  rest.  If  there  was  a  restraint  of  thought 
and  of  style  in  Newman's  Oxford  sermons,  there  was  in 
them  a  refinement  and  a  delicacy  also  that  has  all  but 
wholly  disappeared  from  the  Birmingham  and  Dublin 
sermons.  And  in  the  removal  of  both  the  restraint  and 
the  refinement  and  the  delicacy,  there  has  entered  in  the 
room  of  these  qualities  a  new  freedom  of  treatment,  a 
new  movement  as  of  a  great  drama,  a  new  breadth  and 
depth  of  colour ;  an  abandonment,  so  to  speak,  to  the 
truth  in  hand  ;  a  surrender  up  of  himself  to  the  full 
possession  of  the  passion  that  the  sight  of  '  the  last 
things  '  should  produce,  as  he  holds,  in  every  preacher. 
The  terrific  sermon  on  the  '  Neglect  of  Divine  Warnings,' 
for  instance,  has  a  sweep  of  imagination  and  a  licence 
of  utterance  in  it  that  makes  the  reader  shudder  to  hold 
it  before  his  eyes.  Jonathan  Edwards's  tremendous 
sermon  on  '  Sinners  in  the  Hand  of  an  Angry  God  '  is 
the  only  sermon  at  all  like  Newman's  awful  sermon  in 
the  English  language,  or,  I  should  think,  in  any  other 
language  spoken  among  living  men.  '  The  Mental 
Sufferings  of  our  Lord  in  His  Passion,'  is  another  ever- 
memorable  sermon  of  Newman's  Catholic  pulpit,  that 
has  nothing  at  all  like  it  among  his  English  Church  sermons, 
or  only  a  sentence  or  two  at  most.  '  The  Motive  of  the 
Preacher,'  also  '  Paul's  Gift  of  Sympathy,'  and  '  The 
Religion  of  the  Pharisee,'  may  all  be  mentioned  as 
sermons  full  of  Newman's  later  and  more  magnificent 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  343 

manner  ;  full  of  his  completely  emancipated,  if  somewhat 
overworked,  power.  And  there  is  sometimes,  with  all 
this,  a  certain  momentary  return  to  something  like  the 
kind  of  sermon  that  so  satisfied  his  mother  in  her 
son's  pre-Tractarian  days.  But  that  return  does  not 
long  remain. 

Newman's  volume  on  Justification  is  to  me  the  most 
Newman-like  of  all  his  written  work.  It  gathers  up 
into  itself  all  his  power,  all  his  beauty,  all  his  virtues, 
and  all  his  vices.  What  English  ! — I  exclaim  continu- 
ally as  I  read  it.  What  iridescent,  dazzling,  elusive, 
charming  writing !  And,  at  the  same  time,  how  pro- 
voking, and  how  intended  to  provoke  !  Full  of  that 
irony  which  he  admits  he  was  accustomed  to  use  to  dull 
men,  but  always  beautiful ;  always  very  beauty  itself. 
And  absolutely  invaluable  to  the  thoroughgoing  divinity 
student ;  for  he  will  find  the  greatest  and  best  of  all  his 
pulpit  subjects  here  set  before  him  in  every  possible 
light.  And  he  will  find  this  also,  that  if  there  are  any 
loose  links  in  his  Evangelical  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith  alone,  he  will  find  those  loose  links  detected  and 
exposed  in  this  book  with  the  most  merciless  satire,  and 
with  the  most  matchless  literary  skill.  So  much  so, 
that  he  who  holds  to  this  supreme  apostolic  doctrine 
after  reading  Newman,  will  hold  it  as  he  never  held  it 
before.  He  will  both  understand,  and  hold,  and  love, 
and  preach,  that  doctrine  of  doctrines  as  never  before. 
And  what  more  can  be  said  in  favour  of  any  book,  true, 
half-true,  or  wholly  false  ?  From  one  point  of  view 
Newman's  Justification  is  an  entirely  dialectical  book  ; 
again,  it  is  an  entirely  mystical  book  ;  again,  a  most 
spiritual  book  ;  and  yet  again,  a  most  sophistical  and 
mischievous  book.     A  perfect  mirror  of  the  nature  and 


344  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

the  working  of  its  author's  many-sided,  arbitrary,  and 
anomalous  mind,  especially  when  he  is  engaged  in  con- 
troversy with  Evangelical  truth.  How  any  man  of 
Newman's  spirituality  of  mind,  knowledge  of  his  own 
heart,  and  exquisiteness  of  insight  into  the  infinite  holi- 
ness of  God's  law,  could,  in  any  way,  or  at  any  time, 
or  in  any  degree,  stake  his  standing  before  the  judgment- 
seat  of  God,  on  anything  he  could  suffer,  or  perform,  or 
attain  to,  in  this  world,  is  a  mystery  and  an  amazement 
to  me,  beyond  what  I  can  express.  Indeed,  this  is  the 
supreme  mystery  of  Newman's  mysterious  mind  to  me. 
Had  it  been  almost  any  one  else,  I  would  have  said 
that,  simply,  the  holy  law  of  God  had  never  really 
entered  that  man's  heart  who  could  write  of  sin  and  the 
pardon  of  sin  as  Newman  sometimes  writes.  Again  and 
again,  he  says  things  about  sin,  at  the  reading  of  which 
I  stand  absolutely  astounded, — that  Newman,  of  all 
men,  should  say  such  things.  Till  I  fall  back  on  his 
self-confessed  way  of  speaking  ironically,  and  in  raillery, 
even  on  the  most  solemn  subjects  ;  especially  when  he 
has  Evangelical  preaching  in  his  scornful  eye.  Also,  the 
doctrinal  system  to  which  he  had  surrendered  himself 
has  no  little  to  account  for  in  its  twist  and  perversion  of 
such  a  splendidly  spiritual  mind.  '  Know  ye  not,  that 
to  whom  ye  yield  yourselves  servants  to  obey,  his  servants 
ye  are  to  whom  ye  obey.' 

Hooker  is  the  greatest  name  in  the  English  Church. 
If  the  English  Church  has  a  master  in  theology.  Hooker 
is  that  universally  acknowledged  master  of  the  best 
English  theology  in  the  best  English  prose.  And  this  is 
his  masterpiece  passage  on  Justification.  And  a  passage 
in  which  he  is  absolutely  at  one  with  Paul  and  Luther, 
even  as  all  truly  Evangelical  preachers  are  at  one  with 
him  :— 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  345 

'  Christ  hath  merited  righteousness  for  as  many 

AS  ARE  FOUND  IN  HiM.  AnD  IN  HiM  GoD  FINDETH  US, 
IF  WE  BE  FAITHFUL  ;    FOR  BY  FAITH  WE  ARE  INCORPORATED 

INTO  Him.  Then,  although  we  be  in  ourselves  alto- 
gether SINFUL  AND  UNRIGHTEOUS,  YET  EVEN  THE  MAN 
WHO  IS  IN  HIMSELF  IMPIOUS,  FULL  OF  INIQUITY,  FULL  OF 
SIN  ;     HIM  BEING  FOUND  IN  ChRIST  THROUGH  FAITH,   AND 

having  his  sin  in  hatred  through  repentance,  him 
God  beholdeth  with  a  gracious  eye  ;   putteth  away 

HIS  SIN  by  NOT  IMPUTING  IT  ;  TAKETH  QUITE  AWAY  THE 
PUNISHMENT  DUE  THEREUNTO,  BY  PARDONING  IT  ;  AND 
ACCEPTETH  HIM  IN  ChRIST  JeSUS,  AS  PERFECTLY  RIGHTEOUS 
AS  IF  HE  HAD  FULFILLED  ALL  THAT  IS  COMMANDED  HIM 
IN  THE  LAW  ;  SHALL  I  SAY  MORE  PERFECTLY  RIGHTEOUS 
THAN  IF  HIMSELF  HAD  FULFILLED  THE  WHOLE  LAW  ?  I 
MUST  TAKE  HEED  WHAT  I  SAY,   BUT  THE  APOSTLE  SAITH, 

"  God  MADE  Him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin, 

THAT  we  might  BE  MADE  THE  RIGHTEOUSNESS  OF  GOD 

in  Him."  Such  we  are  in  the  sight  of  God  the 
Father,  as  is  the  very  Son  of  God  Himself.  Let  it 

BE  counted  folly,  OR  PHRENSY,  OR  FURY,  OR  WHATSO- 
EVER. It  is  OUR  wisdom,  and  our  comfort  :  we  care 

FOR  NO  knowledge  IN  THE  WORLD  BUT  THIS,  THAT  MAN 
HATH  SINNED,  AND  GoD  HATH  SUFFERED  :  THAT  GoD 
HATH  MADE  HiMSELF  THE  SIN  OF  MEN,  AND  THAT  MEN 
ARE  MADE  THE  RIGHTEOUSNESS  OF  GoD.' 

Would  that  Newman  had  subscribed  and  stood  to 
that,  and  had  always  preached  that  in  his  own  best 
English  ! 

Newman's  ostensibly  controversial  works  are  a  very 
treasure-house  of  good  things  to  the  student  who  knows 
how  to  search  for  them.  The  intricate  man  will  never 
be  fully  understood  till  his  controversial  works  have  been 


346  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

consecutively  and  sympathetically  explored.  There  is 
no  other  writer  whose  controversial  works  will  prove  so 
repaying  to  the  student,  unless  it  is  the  still  more  repay- 
ing controversial  works  of  William  Law.  And  Law  and 
Newman  are  alike  in  this,  and  are  alone  in  this,  that 
whatever  be  the  immediate  matter  in  dispute,  both  these 
great  writers  give  their  readers  such  rifts,  and  glimpses, 
and  flashes,  into  the  highest  truths,  and  bring  those 
truths  to  bear  with  such  impressiveness  on  the  matter  in 
hand.  And  they  both  display  such  a  trained  and 
polished  mind  in  their  polemics,  that  their  controversial 
writings  will  remain  English  literature  of  a  very  high 
and  a  very  rare  order.  One  great  interest  to  us  of 
Newman's  polemical  writings  lies  in  the  continually 
fluid  and  mobile  state  of  his  own  mind  ;  while,  all  the 
time,  he  is  taking  up  the  most  fixed  and  the  most  final 
attitude  of  mind  toward  the  men  and  the  matters  in 
debate.  This  also  makes  his  controversial  works  a 
study  of  himself  to  us  ;  how  his  passions  largely  decide 
and  fix  his  standing-ground  for  the  time  ;  and,  then, 
how  his  imagination — and  such  an  imagination  ;  and, 
then,  his  argumentative  talents — and  such  argumentative 
talents — all  come  in  to  fortify,  and  to  defend,  and  to 
make  warlike  and  aggressive,  every  present  position  of 
his.  Dante  boasts  somewhere  that  language  has  never 
led  him  to  say  what  he  had  not  beforehand  determined 
to  say.  Now  I  question  if  Newman  would  have  been 
bold  enough,  at  his  boldest,  to  say  that.  For,  first  his 
likes  and  dislikes,  and  then  his  imagination,  and  then  his 
self-seductive  style — we  cannot  shut  our  eyes  as  we  see 
all  these  things  completely  sweeping  Newman  himself 
away  into  utterances  and  attitudes  he  did  not  intend,  and 
almost  sweeping  us  away  with  him.  With  all  that,  if 
the   student   of   Newman   has    sufficient   patience,    and 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  347 

temper,  and  taste  for  letters,  and  a  sufficient  appreciation 
of  the  gleams  and  glimpses  of  the  loftiest  truths  that  are 
never  long  absent  from  anything  that  Newman  writes, 
he  will  find  his  master's  most  sectarian,  and,  at  first 
sight,  most  unattractive-looking,  treatises  full  of  illus- 
trations of  their  author's  character  ;  full  of  the  over- 
flowing resources  of  his  mind  ;  and  full  of  things  the 
enriched  student  will  never  forget ;  however  occasional, 
and  perhaps  ephemeral,  and  even  worse,  the  character 
of  the  original  controversy  in  hand  may  be  in  itself. 

It  would  be  well  worth  while  for  any  student  of  natural 
science  to  compare  Newman  and  Darwin  in  their  Develop- 
ment books.  Newman's  categories  are,  to  my  mind,  even 
more  suggestive  and  philosophical  than  Darwin's  are,  or 
those  of  any  of  his  successors.  Newman's  extraordinary 
intellectual  strength,  originality,  amazing  versatility, 
and  inexhaustible  resource  of  mind,  all  come  out  in  an 
entrancing  way  in  this  wonderful,  even  if  almost  entirely 
baseless,  book.  Reading  the  Develoyment  always  makes 
me  wish  that  Newman  had  given  his  great  gifts  to  show- 
ing us  how  the  doctrines  of  grace,  as  we  find  them  in 
Paul's  Epistles,  were  elaborated  in  the  Apostle's  mind. 
Under  what  impulses,  inspirations,  sanctions,  assist- 
ances, assurances,  the  Apostle's  mind  worked,  till  the 
outcome  of  it  all  is  what  it  is,  and  will  be  to  the  end  of 
Evangelical  time.  What  a  contribution,  what  a  Tract 
for  all  time,  that  would  have  been  !  Dr.  Sanday  has 
said  that  only  Newman  could  have  written  a  Life  of  Jesus 
Christ  to  satisfy  us  in  our  day.  And  I  will  add,  only 
Newman  could  have  treated  Paul,  and  his  development 
of  doctrine,  as  Paul  is  still  waiting  to  be  treated.  Instead 
of  that, — what  a  waste  of  labour  !  What  a  lost  oppor- 
tunity ! 


348  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

Everybody  has  read  Macaulay's  Essays,  and  Carlyle's 
Essays,  but  not  one  in  a  thousand  knows  so  much  as 
the  very  existence  of  Newman's  Essays,  his  Historical 
Sketches,  and  his  Discussions  and  Arguments.  Even  to 
advertise  some  of  the  contents  of  Newman's  six  splendid 
volumes,  and  to  call  attention  to  some  of  the  rare  intel- 
lectual workmanship  contained  in  those  six  volumes, 
is  a  service  which  any  man  like  myself  may  well  be 
proud  to  perform.  His  essay  on  '  Aristotle's  Poetics,' 
his  essay  on  '  John  Davison,'  his  essay  on  '  John  Keble,' 
his  Times  articles  on  '  The  Tamworth  Reading-Room,' 
his  '  Who  's  to  blame  ?  '  (for  the  disasters  of  the  Crimean 
War),  his  criticism  of  Ecce  Homo,  his  succession  of 
papers  on  The  Church  of  the  Fathers,  and  his  twenty 
chapters  on  Universities,  besides  his  many  ecclesiastical 
articles, — all  make  up  a  body  of  literature  of  the  very 
finest  quality.  The  very  dedications,  advertisements, 
and  prefaces,  are  well  worth  our  study  for  their  charming 
courtesy  and  for  their  beauty  of  style.  The  advertise- 
ment to  The  Church  of  the  Fathers  has  been  well  described 
as  '  a  very  gem,  both  of  thought  and  expression.'  The 
paragraphs  on  translation  in  that  advertisement  are 
simply  canonical  to  the  classical  scholar.  The  whole 
piece  is  always  to  be  read  alongside  of  Matthew  Arnold's 
exquisite  little  book  on  translating  Homer.  Were  New- 
man's Essay  on  Poetry,  or  his  Milman,  or  his  Davison, 
or  his  criticism  of  Ecce  Homo,  or  his  Lamennais,  or  his 
Tamworth  Letters,  to  appear  in  any  periodical  of  our  day, 
every  one  would  hail  the  entrance  of  a  new  writer  in  the 
intellectual  arena,  soon  to  prove  himself  to  be  the 
possessor  of  the  clearest  of  eyes,  the  supplest  of  arms, 
and  the  noblest  of  minds.  So  much  so,  that  a  young 
political  or  literary  aspirant  could  have  no  better  advice 
given  to  him  than  to  study  Newman's  Essays  and  Dis- 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  349 

cussions  night  and  day.  For,  let  any  young  man  of  real 
capacity  once  master  Newman's  methods  of  exposition, 
discussion,  and  argumentation  ;  his  way  of  addressing 
himself  to  the  treatment  of  a  subject ;  his  way  of  enter- 
ing upon  a  subject,  worming  his  way  to  the  very  heart 
of  it,  working  it  out,  and  winding  it  up  ;  his  exuberance 
of  allusion,  and  yet  every  word  of  it  for  illustration,  and 
never  one  word  of  it  for  mere  embellishment ;  and, 
withal,  the  nobleness  of  his  heart  in  all  that  he  writes  : 
any  new  writer  studying  Newman's  intellectual  work- 
manship would  soon  make  his  presence  and  his  power 
felt  in  any  of  our  newspapers  or  magazines.  And  let 
any  theological  student  read  Davison's  Remains,  and  his 
beautiful  book  on  Prophecy,  and  then  go  into  Newman's 
review  of  Davison,  and  a  lifelong  impression  of  the  best 
kind  cannot  fail  to  be  made  on  that  student's  mind. 
And  then  the  splendid  sketch  of  University  life  in  ancient 
Athens, — there  is  nothing  so  brilliant  anywhere  else  to 
be  read  ;  and  that,  again,  will  lead  the  reader  up  to  the 
universally-accepted  masterpiece  on  that  whole  subject, 
The  Idea  of  a  University ;  the  first  reading  of  which  is 
always  an  epoch  in  every  university  man's  life.  And 
that  student  of  letters  who  has  not  yet  read  the  lecture 
on  '  Literature,'  and  that  student  of  theology  who  has 
not  yet  read  the  lecture  on  '  Preaching,'  have  both  a 
treat  before  them  that  I  would  envy  them  for,  were  it  not 
that  the  oftener  I  read  those  two  lectures  I  always  enjoy 
them  the  more.  For,  how  enlightening,  how  captivating, 
are  those  two  or  three  pages  in  which  Newman  takes 
Sterne's  eulogium  on  the  style  of  Holy  Scripture  for  a 
text,  and  then  proceeds  to  the  vindication  of  the  style  of 
the  classical  writers.  Read  attentively  the  lecture  on 
'  Literature,'  and  if  you  are  not  simply  captivated,  you 
need  read  no  more  in  Newman.     Read  his  '  University 


350  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

Preaching  ' ;  and  unless  your  heart  burns  within  you, 
you  may  depend  upon  it  you  have  mistaken  your  call  to 
the  Christian  pulpit.  Those  University  papers,  especi- 
ally, are  yet  another  illustration  of  that  liberating, 
broadening  out,  and  exuberating,  of  Newman's  mind 
which  reveals  itself  in  so  many  of  his  Catholic  com- 
positions. If  the  Catholic  University  movement  had 
left  no  other  result  than  those  two  brilliant  volumes, 
not  Ireland  and  Rome  only,  but  all  the  other  Churches, 
and  English  literature  itself,  would  be  the  great  and 
lasting  gainers. 

As  Coleridge  would  say.  Let  every  theological  student 
sell  his  bed  and  buy  Newman's  Aihanasius.  The  great 
antagonist  of  the  Arians  was  Newman's  favourite  Father, 
even  more  than  Augustine  himself.  Mr.  Arthur  Hutton 
tells  us  that  when  Leo  xiii.  made  sundry  pronouncements 
in  favour  of  an  almost  exclusive  use  of  the  writings  of 
St.  Thomas,  and  the  Cardinal  was  in  duty  bound  to 
write  to  His  Holiness  approving  and  praising  his  action, 
he  slipped  in  a  saving  clause,  claiming  that  St.  Athanasius 
was  doubtless  included  in  the  Papal  recommendation. 
Athanasius  is  always  '  the  great  Athanasius  '  to  Newman, 
and  a  page  could  easily  be  filled  with  this  and  many  other 
epithets  and  titles  of  honour  and  admiration  that  his 
translator  and  annotator  has  bestowed  upon  his  patristic 
master.  But  it  is  not  so  much  Athanasius,  with  all  his 
services,  that  I  wish  all  students  to  possess,  as  Newman's 
volume  of  Notes  on  the  Select  Treatises.  The  way  that 
Newman  introduces  his  little  articles — little  in  bulk,  but 
bullion  itself  in  value — will  make  every  true  student 
hunger  to  have  them  :  '  I  had  hoped  that  this  would  be 
my  least  imperfect  work,  but  I  have  done  my  best,  bear- 
ing in  mind  that  I  have  no  right  to  reckon  on  the  future.' 
And  this  also  :    '  These  annotations  are  written,  pro  re 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  351 

nata,  capriciously,  or,  at  least,  arbitrarily,  with  matter 
which  the  writer  happens  to  have  at  hand,  or  knows 
where  to  find,  and  are  composed  in  what  may  be  called 
an  undress,  conversational  style  ;  and  the  excuse  for 
these  defects  is  that  they  are  mere  appendages  to  the 
text,  and  ancillary  to  it.'  Do  not  believe  him.  Athan- 
asius  wrote  in  order  to  give  occasion  to  Newman  to 
translate,  and  edit,  and  annotate,  his  writings.  Buy  or 
beg  Newman's  Annotations  to  the  Select  Treatises  of 
Aihanasius. 

No  one  can  feel  the  full  force  of  Newman's  great 
sermons  on  '  The  Incarnation,'  and  on  '  The  Atoning 
Death  of  God  the  Son,'  who  has  not  gone  with  Newman 
behind  the  sermons  and  up  to  the  sources  of  the  sermons 
in  Athanasius,  and  in  Basil,  and  in  Cyril.  The  greatest 
and  the  most  sure  to  be  lasting  of  Newman's  sermons  are 
just  his  rich  Athanasian  Christology  poured  into  the 
mould  of  his  incomparable  homiletic,  and  delivered  with 
all  that  overpowering  solemnity  to  which  all  who  ever 
heard  those  sermons  have  testified.  Such  sermons 
would  not  have  been  possible,  even  in  Newman's  pulpit, 
had  it  not  been  that  he  was  absolutely  taken  possession 
of  by  the  Apostolic  and  Athanasian  Christology.  And 
this  leads  me  to  make  an  acknowledgment  to  you  that 
I  have  often  made  to  myself  in  reading  Newman's  more 
theological  and  Christological  sermons.  Newman  deserves 
this  acknowledgment  and  praise  above  all  other  expositors 
of  the  Fathers  and  the  great  Creeds  that  have  ever  spoken 
or  written  on  those  high  subjects.  This  acknowledg- 
ment and  praise,  that  what  he  so  truly  says  of  Hooker 
is  in  every  syllable  of  it  still  more  true  of  himself  :  '  About 
Hooker  there  is  the  charm  of  nature  and  reality.  He 
discourses  not  as  a  theologian,  but  as  a  man  ;  and  we 
see  in  him  what  otherwise  might  have  been  hidden — 


352  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

poetry  and  philosophy  informing  his  ecclesiastical  matter.' 
Now,  read  Pearson,  say,  a  master  as  he  is,  on  any  article 
of  the  Apostles'  Creed,  especially  any  article  of  his  on  the 
Divine  Persons,  and  then  read  a  sermon  of  Newman's 
on  the  same  subject,  and  you  will  get  a  lesson  in  think- 
ing and  in  writing  and  in  preaching  in  English  that  you 
will  never  forget.  Newman  delivers  all  his  readers  ever 
after  from  a  cold,  dry,  notional,  technical,  catechetical 
mind,  he  so  makes  every  article  of  the  Creed  a  very 
fountain  of  life  and  power  and  beauty.  He  so  lifts  up 
his  own  superb  imagination  to  its  noblest  use,  that  he 
makes,  first  himself,  and  then  makes  us  to  see,  the  Divine 
Persons,  and  their  Divine  relations  and  operations,  as 
never  before.  Till  all  our  Creeds  and  Confessions  and 
Catechisms  become  clothed  with  a  majesty,  and  instinct 
with  a  beauty,  and  welling  over  with  personal  applica- 
tions and  comforts,  new,  and  unexpected,  and  ever- 
abiding.  His  two  grand  sermons  in  his  sixth  volume — 
'  Christ  the  Son  of  God  made  Man  '  and  '  The  Incarnate 
Son  a  Sufferer  and  a  Sacrifice,'  may  be  pointed  out  as 
two  splendid  illustrations  of  Newman's  incomparable 
power  of  making  the  highest  doctrines  imaginatively  to 
abide  Avith  us,  and  to  abide  full  of  the  most  homileti- 
cal  and  most  home-coming  expositions  and  ai^plications. 

As  to  Newman's  two  novels, — it  goes  without  saying 
that  both  Loss  and  Gain  and  Callista  contain  brilliant 
and  memorable  passages.  Callista,  especially,  contains 
not  a  few  pages  that  are  entirely  classical.  The  descrip- 
tion of  the  scene  where  the  work  is  laid  ;  the  oft-quoted 
locust-passages  ;  and  the  conversation  on  Tartarus  held 
between  Caecilius  and  Callista, — a  passage  that  William 
Law  himself  might  have  written  ;  and,  I  am  not  sure  that 
even  Ne^vman  would  ever  have  written  those  masterly 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  853 

pages,  unless  William  Law  had  written  on  the  same 
subject  before  him.  As  to  the  trustworthiness  of  Callista, 
— when  the  critics  charge  its  author  with  violating 
historical  truth,  and  with  the  importation  of  Popish 
developments  of  doctrine  and  life  into  a  thu'd  century 
sketch,  Newman  frankly  admits  the  charge.  Indeed, 
he  cannot  deny  it.  This  is  how  he  defends  himself  from 
a  similar  charge  in  his  advertisement  to  The  Church  of 
the  Fathers  :  '  It  is  plain  that  as  to  the  matter  of  these 
Sketches,  though  mainly  historical,  they  are  in  their 
form  and  character  polemical,  as  being  directed  against 
certain  Protestant  ideas  and  opinions.  This  considera- 
tion must  plead  for  certain  peculiarities  which  it  exhibits, 
such  as  its  freedom  in  dealing  with  saintly  persons,  the 
gratuitous  character  of  some  of  its  assertions,  and  the 
liberality  of  many  of  its  concessions.  It  must  be  recol- 
lected that,  in  controversy,  a  writer  grants  all  that  he 
can  afford  to  grant,  and  avails  himself  of  all  that  he  can 
get  granted  ;  in  other  words,  if  he  seems  to  admit,  it  is 
mainly  for  argument's  sake ;  and  if  he  seems  to  assert, 
it  is  mainly  as  an  argumentum  ad  hominem.  As  to  positive 
statements  of  his  own,  he  commits  himself  to  as  few  as  he 
can  ;  just  as  a  soldier  on  campaign  takes  no  more  baggage 
than  is  enough,  and  considers  the  conveniences  of  home 
life  as  only  impediments  in  his  march.'  As  long  as 
Hippocleides  can  write  in  that  way,  what  chance  has 
Charles  Kingsley,  or  even  the  truth  itself,  with  Hippo- 
cleides !  Altogether,  Loss  and  Gain  and  Callista  are  not 
at  all  worthy  of  their  author's  genius  and  character.  He 
should  have  been  advised  against  reprinting  them. 
They  might  pass  at  the  time  of  their  composition  for 
veiled  polemical  pamphlets,  but  they  can  do  no  real  and 
abiding  good.  They  certainly  do  not  add  to  Newman's 
reputation,  either  for  literary  ability,  or  for  historical 


354  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

integrity,  or  for  controversial  fairness.  I  never  took  to 
his  two  novels,  and  I  do  not  recommend  you  to  read 
them,  unless  for  the  light  they  throw  on  their  author. 
But,  then,  that  hght  is  not  httle.  For,  as  Dr.  Abbott 
says,  Loss  and  Gain  and  Callista  are  '  the  most  subjective 
of  novels.' 

What  Coleridge  has  said  about  Jeremy  Taylor's  com- 
position of  his  Apology  is  exactly,  and  exquisitely,  and 
prophetically,  true  of  Newman  in  the  composition  of  his 
book  of  the  same  name.  '  Taylor  so  again  and  again 
forgets  that  he  is  reasoning  against  an  antagonist,  that 
he  falls  into  conversation  with  him  as  a  friend — I  might 
almost  say  into  the  literary  chitchat  and  unwithholding 
frankness  of  a  rich  genius  whose  sands  are  seed-pearl.' 
The  Apologia  pro  vita  sua  could  not  possibly  be  better 
described.  It  is  just  a  literary  chitchat  whose  sands  are 
seed-pearl.  For  it  is  a  chitchat  rather  than  a  studied 
composition.  That  is,  it  has  been  studied  and  studied, 
and  written  and  re-written,  to  such  a  finish  that  it  reads 
to  us  like  chitchat,  so  perfect,  so  exquisite,  is  its  art. 
And,  like  Taylor's  very  richest  writing,  Newman's 
Apologia  has  all  the  charm  of  a  rich  genius  conversing 
confidingly  Avith  his  most  intimate  friends.  I  am  not  to 
attempt  the  praise  of  the  Apologia  as  English  hterature. 
I  could  fill  a  volume  as  large  as  itself  with  its  praises  by 
the  acknowledged  judges  of  good  books.  They  are  all 
agreed  as  to  the  Apologia  being  the  brilliant  crown  of  a 
brilliant  series  of  literary  masterpieces.  And,  besides 
all  that,  as  a  piece  of  polemic  ;  as  the  apology  it  was 
intended  to  be  ;  it  is  as  conclusive  and  unanswerable 
as  it  is  incomparable  as  a  piece  of  English  literature. 
The  Apologia  carried  the  whole  world  captive  in  a  day. 
Never  was  there  such  a  sudden  and  such  a  complete 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  355 

reversal  of  men's  judgments.  It  may  well  stand  on  the 
title-page  of  the  Apologia  :  '  Commit  thy  way  to  the 
Lord,  and  trust  in  Him,  and  He  will  do  it.  And  He  will 
bring  forth  thy  justice  as  the  light,  and  thy  judgment 
as  the  noonday.'  At  the  same  time,  like  so  much  of  its 
author's  work,  it  bears  the  stamp  of  an  occasion  on  its 
face,  and  no  work  of  that  kind  will  ever  become  immortal. 
The  immortal  Ecclesiastical  Polity  itself  is  preserved  to 
all  time,  in  virtue  of  those  books  which  are  imbedded  in 
it,  and  which  do  not  properly  belong  to  it.  Those  books, 
and  chapters  of  books,  which  rise  above  time,  and  all  its 
polemic,  and  belong  to  eternity.  Even  as  an  auto- 
biography the  Apologia  does  not  stand  in  the  first  rank. 
The  Confessions  does,  the  Grace  Abounding  does,  the 
Reliquice  even,  in  many  of  its  chapters,  does.  Ay,  even 
such  homely  books  as  Halyburton,  and  Brea,  and  Boston, 
stand  in  the  first  rank  to  us,  because,  even  where  their 
style  may  not  be  the  most  classical,  and  even  when  those 
writers  are  the  most  homely,  their  subject-matter  is  of 
such  transcendent  and  everlasting  importance.  New- 
man's splendid  vindication  of  his  ecclesiastical  honesty 
is  of  a  high  importance  and  a  rare  relish  to  all  his  readers  ; 
but  there  is  a  region  far  higher  than  even  that,  and  a 
region  into  which  his  Apologia  never  once  enters.  It 
glances,  in  passing,  into  that  region  of  regions,  but  only 
in  passing.  And,  never  really  entering  into  that  inner 
and  upper  region,  it  has  none  of  the  interest,  and  none 
of  the  perennial  imjjortance  and  power,  that  many 
autobiographies  have  which  cannot  for  a  moment  com- 
pete with  the  Apologia  in  hterary  charm.  He  would 
be  a  bold  man  who  would  venture  to  correct  Newman's 
English,  even  in  a  jot  or  a  tittle,  else  I  would  propose  to 
read  '  ecclesiastical '  where  he  has  written  '  religious  '  on 
his  title-page.     For  the  Apologia  is  really  a  history  of 


856  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

his  ecclesiastical  opinions,  and  not  at  all  of  his  religious 
opinions  ;  or  it  is  a  history  of  his  religious  opinions  only 
so  far  as  they  bear  upon  his  ecclesiastical  opinions,  and 
upon  his  ever-shifting  ecclesiastical  positions.  There  are, 
to  be  sure,  single  entrancing  sentences  of  experimental 
religion  in  the  Apologia,  but  the  bulk  of  the  book  is  in 
the  region  of  ecclesiastical  opinion,  and  not  always  the 
highest  region  of  that.  '  The  Apologia,'  says  Froude, 
'  is  the  most  beautiful  of  autobiographies,  but  it  tells  us 
only  how  its  writer  appeared  to  himself.'  And,  I  will 
add,  only  how  its  writer  appeared  to  himself  from  time 
to  time  as  a  Churchman,  which  is  a  very  different  thing 
from  a  man,  a  sinful  man,  and  a  Christian  man.  I  read, 
and  read,  and  read  again,  the  Apologia,  but  it  always 
leaves  me  where  first  it  found  me  so  many  years  ago. 
Nobody  enjoys  the  Apologia  more  than  I  enjoy  it,  but 
I  get  nothing  beyond  intellectual,  and  artistic,  and 
emotional,  enjoyment  out  of  it.  I  am  not  a  stronger  or 
a  better  man  after  again  reading  the  Apologia.  It  never 
sends  me  back  to  the  stern  battle  of  my  life  with  my 
harness  better  fastened  on,  or  to  my  pulpit  with  any  new 
sense  of  spiritual  power.  It  affords  me  amusement  of 
the  rarest  and  finest  kind  ;  it  gives  me  a  high  intellectual 
and  artistic  treat ;  but  it  does  not  dwell  and  work 
within  my  heart  as  some  other  autobiographical  books 
dwell  and  work,  that  I  am  ashamed  to  name  in  such 
classical  company.  But  I  must  always  remember  what, 
exactly,  the  Apologia  is,  and  what  it  is  not.  It  is  not  a 
religious  book  at  all,  but  an  ecclesiastical.  It  is  not  a 
spiritual  book  at  all,  but  a  dialectical.  It  is  not  a  book 
of  the  very  soul,  but  of  what  is  to  be  said  as  between  this 
Church  and  that.  Its  author  does  not  say,  like  John 
Bunyan,  '  Come  and  hear,  all  ye  that  fear  God,  and  I 
will  declare  what  He  hath  done  for  my  soul ' ;    and, 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  357 

therefore,  I  must  not  expect  what  he  does  not  promise. 
And  thus  it  is  that  I  never  lay  down  the  Apologia  without 
finding  myself  exclaiming, — Oh,  that  all  that  so  captivating 
talent  had  been  laid  out  on  telling  us  how  Newman,  like 
Paul,  won  Christ  so  as  to  be  found  in  Him,  instead  of  how 
he  won  his  way  to  Rome  so  as  to  be  found  in  her.  For, 
then,  he  would  have  produced  a  book  that  would  have 
stood  beside  the  two  or  three  best  books  of  that  kind  in 
all  the  world.  Then  Newman's  Apologia  would  have 
stood  beside  Bunyan's  Grace  Abounding.  And,  then,  I 
would  have  sung  '  Lead,  Kindly  Light,'  with  a  liberty, 
and  with  a  sense  of  communion  with  its  author,  that, 
by  his  Apologia,  he  has  completely  taken  away  from  me. 

In  the  Grammar  of  Assent,  as  Mr.  Birrell  says,  New- 
man strikes  the  shield  of  John  Locke,  and  it  is  not  for  me 
to  venture  in  between  such  combatants.  But  I  may  be 
permitted  to  say  this,  that  the  Grammar  of  Assent  has 
been  a  prime  favourite  of  mine  ever  since  the  year  1870, 
when  it  was  first  published.  There  is  more  of  the  jargon 
of  the  schools  in  the  Grammar  than  in  all  Newman's 
other  books  taken  together.  But,  then,  to  make  up  for 
that,  there  are  many  passages  of  a  high  and  noble 
eloquence  that  he  has  never  surpassed.  This  very  able 
book,  when  stripped  of  its  technicalities,  is  simply  an 
amplification,  in  Newman's  perfect  English,  of  the  truth 
that  it  is  with  the  heart,  and  not  with  the  head,  that  a 
man  believes  unto  salvation.  And  an  amplification  of 
this  kindred  truth  also,  that  if  any  man  will  do  the  will 
of  God,  he  shall  know  the  ^octrine.  And  that  in  these 
ways  his  peace  shall  be  as  a  river.  Only,  to  have  made 
this  fine  book  fine  to  the  end,  it  should  have  ended,  not 
with  an  assent  to  Rome,  but  to  this  rather,  that  neither 
in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jesusalem,  shall  we  worship 


358  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 

the  Father ;  but  they  that  worship  Him  must  worship 
Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  With  all  its  defects,  the 
Grammar  is  a  great  possession  to  the  proper  possessor. 

The  Dream  of  Geroniius  was  the  true  copestone  for 
Newman  to  cut  and  to  lay  on  the  literary  and  rehgious 
work  of  his  whole  life.  Had  Dante  himself  composed 
The  Dream  of  Geroniius  as  his  elegy  on  the  death  of  some 
beloved  friend,  it  would  have  been  universally  received 
as  altogether  worthy  of  his  superb  genius,  and  it  would 
have  been  a  jewel  altogether  worthy  of  his  peerless  crown. 
There  is  nothing  of  its  kind  outside  of  the  Purgatorio 
and  the  Paradise  at  all  equal  to  the  Geroniius  for 
solemnising,  ennobling,  and  sanctifying  power.  It  is 
a  poem  that  every  man  should  have  by  heart  who  has 
it  before  him  to  die. 

All  students  of  the  English  language  give  their  days  and 
nights  to  the  Authorised  Version  of  the  Bible,  to  Shake- 
speare, to  Hooker,  to  Tajior,  to  Milton,  to  Bunyan,  to 
Johnson,  to  Swift,  to  Ruskin.  But  if  they  overlook 
Newman,  they  will  make  a  great  mistake,  and  will  miss 
both  thinking  and  writing  of  the  very  first  order.  The 
strength,  the  richness,  the  pliability,  the  acuteness,  the 
subtlety,  the  spiritualness,  the  beauty,  the  manifold 
resources  of  the  English  language,  are  all  brought  out 
under  Newman's  hand,  as  under  the  hand  of  no  other 
English  author.  '  Athanasius  is  a  great  writer,'  says 
Newman,  '  simple  in  his  diction,  clear,  unstudied,  direct, 
vigorous,  elastic,  and,  above  all,  characteristic'  All 
of  which  I  will  repeat  of  Newman  himself,  and  especially 
this — he  is,  above  all,  characteristic.  If  the  English 
language  has  an  angel  residing  in  it  and  presiding  over 
it,  surely  Newman  is  that  angel.     Or,  at  the  least,  the 


CARDINAL  NEWMAN  359 

angel  who  has  the  guardianship  of  the  Enghsh  language 
committed  to  him,  must  surely  have  handed  his  own  pen 
to  Newman  as  often  as  that  master  has  sat  down  to  write 
English.  No  other  writer  in  the  English  language  has 
ever  written  it  quite  like  Newman.  Every  preface  of 
his,  every  title-page  of  his,  every  dedication  and  adver- 
tisement of  his,  every  footnote,  every  parenthesis  of  his, 
has  a  stamp  upon  it  that  at  once  makes  you  say — that  is 
Newman  !  He  is  simply  inimitable.  He  is  simply  alone 
as  a  writer,  and  has  no  fellow.  No  wonder  he  says  that 
the  only  master  of  style  he  ever  had  was  Cicero.  And 
Cicero  had  a  good  scholar  in  Newman,  if  the  scholar  is 
correct  in  his  description  of  his  master.  '  This  is  the 
great  art  of  Cicero  himself,  who,  whether  he  is  engaged  in 
statement,  argument,  or  raillery,  never  ceases  till  he  has 
exhausted  the  subject ;  going  round  about  it  and  placing 
it  in  every  different  light,  yet  without  repetition  to 
offend  or  weary  the  reader.'  Altogether,  Newman's  is  a 
shelf  of  some  thirty-eight  volumes,  all  opulent  with  ideas, 
all  instinct  with  spirituality,  all  resplendent  with  beauty, 
and  all  enriching  and  fertilising  to  the  mind  of  their 
proper  reader  ;  with  all  their  drawbacks,  a  noble  inheri- 
tance to  their  true  heir.  And  now,  in  bringing  this  very 
imperfect  appreciation  of  Newman  to  a  close,  I  think  I 
can  say  with  a  good  conscience,  that  I  have  done  my 
best  to  speak  to  you  about  this  great  man  and  rich 
writer  on  Paul's  great  principle  of 
hoping  all  things,  enduring  all  things 
in  the  truth.  And  on  Shakespeare's  great  principle  ; 
for  I  have  not  knowingly  extenuated  anything,  and  it 
was  simply  impossible  for  me  to  set  down  aught  in 
malice.  And  on  Bengel's  great  principle,  not  to  judge 
without  knowledge,  nor  without  necessity,  nor  without 
love  :  Sine  scieniia,  sine  necessitate,  sine  amore. 


)f  believing  all  things,    1-^cl 
^s,  and  always  rejoicing  //     /Cr^' 


JOHN   WESLEYi 

'  It  was  in  pursuance  of  an  advice  given  me  by  Bishop 
Jeremy  Taylor  in  his  Holy  Living  and  Dying,  that  I 
began  to  take  a  more  exact  account  than  I  had  ever 
done  before  of  the  manner  wherein  I  had  spent  my 
time,  writing  down  how  I  had  employed  every  hour.' 
With  characteristic  promptitude  Wesley  at  once  took 
that  great  casuist's  counsel  to  heart,  and  the  result, 
after  many  years,  was  John  Wesley's  Journal.  Pliny 
tells  us  that  Apelles  never  let  a  day  pass  without  his 
drawing  something,  great  or  small,  with  his  pencil : 
nulla  dies  sine  linea.  And,  after  the  most  dialectical  and 
the  most  eloquent  of  Enghsh  theologians  gave  that 
advice  to  John  Wesley,  he  never  let  a  day  pass  away 
till  he  had  penned  a  longer  or  shorter  account  of  the  day 
in  his  so  faithful  journal. 

'  Mind  is  from  the  mother,'  says  Isaac  Taylor.  '  Such 
we  conclude  to  be  a  law  of  nature,  on  the  evidence  of 
many  bright  instances.  Now,  the  Wesley s  had  the 
advantage  of  this  law  ;  and  their  mother,  a  woman  of 
quite  extraordinary  intelligence,  force  of  mind,  correct 
judgment,  and  vivid  apprehension  of  truth,  conferred 
also  upon  her  sons  whatever  advantage  they  might 
derive  from  her  composite  excellence  as  a  zealous  church- 
woman  ;  yet  rich  in  a  dowry  of  nonconforming  virtues.' 
Thus  far  the  best  writer  we  have  on  Wesley.     At  the 

^  New  College  Closing  Address,  Session  1912-13. 


362  JOHN  WESLEY 

same  time,  with  all  that  about  his  mother,  John  Wesley's 
father  was  not  a  man  to  be  despised  or  forgotten,  though 
he  never  attained  to  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  dis- 
tinction of  his  wife.  Susannah  Wesley's  management 
of  her  household,  her  nurture  and  admonition  of  her 
large  family,  and  her  whole  behaviour  and  deportment 
both  as  a  wife  and  a  mother  :  all  taken  together,  exalt  her 
to  the  very  highest  rank  of  great  and  good  women  in  all 
religious  biography.  I  always  think  of  Susannah  Wesley 
as  standing  beside  Jonathan  Edwards's  New  England 
wife,  and  Thomas  Boston's  Ettrick  wife.  And  Thomas 
Boston's  truly  classical  eulogy  of  his  noble  wife  does  not, 
in  anything,  surpass  what  we  read  of  the  mother  of 
John  Wesley.  Take  a  few  lines  from  one  of  her  letters 
to  her  son  John,  when  he  was  still  somewhat  undecided 
about  the  ministry.  '  And  now,'  she  wrote,  '  in  good 
earnest,  resolve  to  make  religion  the  business  of  your 
life.  For,  after  all,  that  is  the  one  thing  which,  strictly 
speaking,  is  necessary.  All  things  else  are,  compara- 
tively speaking,  little  to  the  purpose  of  life.  I  heartily 
wish  that  you  would  now  enter  upon  a  strict  examination 
of  yourself,  in  order  that  you  may  know  whether  you 
have  a  reasonable  hope  of  your  salvation  by  Jesus 
Christ.  If  you  have,  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  it 
will  abundantly  reward  your  pains  ;  and,  if  you  have 
not,  you  will  find  a  more  reasonable  occasion  for  tears 
than  can  be  met  with  in  a  tragedy.'  A  passage,  gentle- 
men, worthy  of  a  writer  one  of  whose  favourite  authors 
was  Pascal.  And,  afterwards,  when  she  was  asked  if 
she  would  give  her  consent  to  her  son  John  going  out  as 
a  missionary  to  the  American  Indians,  her  reply  was  : 
'  Had  I  twenty  sons,  I  should  rejoice  that  they  were  all 
so  employed,  though  I  should  never  see  them  more.' 
Well,  it  was  from  Susannah  Wesley's  manse-home  that 


JOHN  WESLEY  363 

John  and  Charles  Wesley  went  up  to  the  University  of 
Oxford.  And  she  soon  had  the  happiness  to  hear  that 
her  two  sons  were  members,  and  indeed  leaders,  in 
the  '  Holy  Club  '  of  that  University.  '  The  Holy  Club  ' 
was  one  of  the  many  nicknames  that  Whitefield  and  the 
Wesleys  and  others  likeminded  had  earned  for  them- 
selves from  their  irreligious  and  ribald-tongued  fellow- 
students.  The  offensive  holiness  of  the  Club  consisted 
in  its  members  meeting  from  time  to  time  in  one  another's 
room  for  the  devotional  reading  of  the  Greek  Testament, 
and  for  suchlike  fellowship.  And  the  duties  to  which 
they  devoted  their  spare  time  were  very  much  like  the 
duties  to  which  so  many  of  yourselves  devote  your 
spare  time  in  the  Settlement.  They  went  out  to  the 
streets  on  the  Lord's  Day  and  collected  into  classes  the 
neglected  children  of  the  city  ;  they  visited  the  prisons 
and  the  poorhouses  of  the  city.  And  one  thing  to  which 
they  specially  attended  was,  to  watch  for  the  arrival  of 
young  students,  so  as  to  get  them  introduced  at  once 
into  good  company.  But  the  Holy  Club  was  as  con- 
spicuous for  its  scholarship  as  it  was  for  its  works  of 
religion  and  charity.  John  Wesley  especially  was  one 
of  the  best,  if  not  the  very  best,  scholars  of  his  day. 
He  stood  at  the  top  of  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  and  Latin 
classes  ;  he  held  a  lectureship  in  Greek  and  another  in 
Logic.  He  had  a  quite  extraordinary  talent  for  learning 
languages.  '  In  his  knowledge  of  German,'  says  an 
eminent  Methodist  writer,  '  Wesley  was  a  pioneer.  It 
was  not  until  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  at  the 
time  when  the  fame  of  Goethe  and  Schiller  was  filtering 
into  England,  that  Englishmen  began  to  regard  German 
as  a  language  worth  learning.  It  would  be  possible  to 
count  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand  all  the  distinguished 
Englishmen  who  knew  German  in  John  Wesley's  day.' 


364  JOHN  WESLEY 

And  that  same  writer  gives  us  a  list  of  some  thirty-two 
German  hymns  that  Wesley  translated,  '  which  became 
famihar  to  the  Methodists  in  after  days.'  How  Wesley 
anticipated  the  Revised  Version  also,  in  his  Notes  on  the 
New  Testament,  will  be  read  with  something  like  amaze- 
ment in  Mr.  Bett's  scholarly  book. 

After  his  Greek  Testament,  three  great  books  took 
complete  possession  of  John  Wesley's  mind  and  heart 
during  his  Oxford  days.  Our  own  Dr.  Hood  Wilson  has 
an  excellent  passage  on  this  subject.  He  says  :  '  It  was 
about  this  time  that  Wesley  began  the  earnest  study  of 
the  Imitation  of  Christ,  the  Holy  Living  and  Dying,  and 
the  Serious  Call.  These  three  books  became  very  much 
his  spiritual  guides.  They  wakened  up  his  conscience, 
and  he  sought  to  deal  with  his  heart,  and  to  frame  his 
life,  according  to  their  teaching.  Doubtless,  there  must 
have  been  a  divine  purpose  in  his  being  guided  to  these 
authors  at  such  a  time,  and  they  may  have  done  their 
part,  in  that  transition  period  of  his  life,  in  preparing 
him  for  the  great  work  that  lay  before  him.  And  yet, 
one  cannot  but  regret  that  he  did  not,  at  this  critical 
time,  meet  with  some  more  simple  and  more  direct 
evangelical  teaching,  in  book  or  Uving  friend,  which 
might  have  guided  him  to  the  sinner's  one  resting-place, 
saved  him  long  years  of  painful  soul-struggle,  and  given 
to  the  world,  much  sooner,  the  benefit  of  those  labours 
which  it  so  urgently  needed.  Not  now,  nor  till  long 
after,  was  the  great  discovery  made  to  Wesley  of  a  full, 
free,  and  immediate  salvation  through  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ.  Amid  all  his  Oxford  earnestness,  his  views  were 
entirely  legal.  His  one  aim  was  to  attain  salvation  by 
devoutness  and  self-denial,  by  holy  living  and  by  deeds 
of  charity,  to  all  of  which  he  gave  himself  up  with  all 
the   ardour   of  his   devoted   nature.     And,   while   these 


JOHN  WESLEY  865 

books  might  have  helped  him  at  a  later  stage,  they  but 
served,  in  the  state  of  mind  in  which  he  then  was,  to 
furnish  rules  for  a  life  which  had  not  yet  begun.  He 
himself  comes  back  upon  this  bitterly  in  after  years,  and 
speaks  of  it  as  laying  a  foundation  beneath  the  Founda- 
tion.' So  far  Dr.  Hood  Wilson.  And  this  is  an  example 
of  how  Wesley  himself  often  speaks  about  his  Oxford 
days,  as  he  looked  back  to  them  after  his  full  conversion  : 
'  I  did  go  thus  for  many  years  :  using  diligence  to  eschew 
all  evil  and  to  have  a  conscience  void  of  offence,  redeem- 
ing the  time,  laying  up  every  opportunity  of  doing 
good  to  all  men,  constantly  and  carefully  using  all  the 
public,  and  all  the  private  means  of  grace,  endeavouring 
after  a  steady  seriousness  of  behaviour  at  all  times 
and  in  all  places  ;  and  God  is  my  record,  before  whom 
I  stand,  that  I  did  all  this  in  sincerity,  having  a  real 
design  to  serve  God  ;  a  hearty  desire  to  do  His  will  in 
all  things,  to  please  Him  who  had  called  me  to  fight 
the  good  fight,  and  to  lay  hold  of  eternal  life.  Yet,  my 
own  conscience  beareth  me  witness  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
that  all  this  time  I  was  but  almost  a  Christian.'  You 
might  very  well  think  that  John  Wesley,  coming  from 
such  a  home,  and  leading  such  a  life  at  the  University, 
must  have  been,  from  the  beginning,  a  truly  converted 
man.  But  he  did  not  think  so  himself.  Whatever  he 
may  have  thought  about  that  all-important  matter 
during  his  Oxford  days  he  looked  back  on  those  days 
as  being  his  pharisaical,  unregenerated  and  unconverted 
days,  as  we  have  seen,  and  will  still  more  see  immediately. 

After  Wesley  left  Oxford  he  went  out  as  a  missionary 
to  Georgia.  I  shall  not  enter  on  his  Georgian  life.  It 
is  a  painful  story  in  many  ways,  and  what  lesson  it  has 
to  teach  us,  I  will  take  from  Wesley's  latest  biographer. 


366  JOHN  WESLEY 

'  John  Wesley  had  gone  to  Georgia  to  save  his  own  soul, 
and  to  convert  the  Indians.  He  found  no  opportunity 
of  attempting  the  latter,  but  his  Georgian  experiences 
exercised  an  important  influence  upon  the  life  of  his 
own  soul.  His  ministry  to  the  colonists  met  with  com- 
paratively little  success,  and  was  attended  by  a  good 
deal  of  bitterness  and  strife.  It  is  impossible  to  acquit 
Wesley  of  some  blame  in  the  matter.  He  was  at  that 
time  a  narrow,  and  an  autocratic,  High  Churchman.' 
And  this  writer  gives  instance  after  instance  to  illustrate 
that ;  and  then  he  adds  that  '  other  forces,  besides  his 
unhappy  life  in  Georgia,  were  at  work,  which  were 
destined  to  submerge  the  formalist  within  him.' 

Some  of  the  other  forces  here  referred  to  were  his 
experiences  on  shipboard  in  his  Georgian  voyages,  the 
results  of  his  painful  mismanagement  of  his  personal 
life  in  the  midst  of  his  missionary  labours,  his  inter- 
course with  some  Moravian  missionaries  in  Georgia, 
and  his  further  intercourse  with  some  of  the  same 
evangelical  and  fervent-souled  men,  after  his  return  to 
England — all  of  which  is  to  be  read  at  length  in  his 
Journal,  and  all  ending  with  his  full  conversion  at  the 
time  and  in  the  way  he  describes  so  graphically  ^vith 
his  own  pen.  As  thus  :  '  I  continued  in  this  way  to 
seek  my  salvation  (though  with  strange  indifference, 
dullness,  and  coldness,  and  with  frequent  relapses  into 
sin),  till  Wednesday,  May  24.  I  think  it  was  about 
five  this  morning  that  I  opened  my  Testament  at  these 
words  :  "  There  are  given  unto  us  exceeding  great  and 
precious  promises,  even  that  ye  should  be  partakers  of 
the  divine  nature."  Just  as  I  went  out,  I  opened  it  again 
on  these  words  :  "  Thou  art  not  far  from  the  Kingdom 
of  God."     In  the  afternoon  I  was  asked  to  go  to  St. 


JOHN  WESLEY  367 

Paul's.  The  anthem  was,  "  Out  of  the  deep  have  I 
called  unto  Thee,  O  Lord ;  Lord,  hear  my  voice."  In 
the  evening  I  went,  very  unwillingly,  to  a  society  in 
Aldersgate  Street,  where  one  was  reading  Luther's 
Preface  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans.  About  a  quarter 
before  nine,  while  Luther  was  describing  the  change 
which  God  works  in  the  heart  through  faith  in  Christ, 
I  felt  my  heart  strangely  warmed.  I  felt  I  did,  at  that 
moment,  trust  in  Christ,  and  in  Christ  alone,  for  my 
salvation.  And  an  assurance  was  given  me  on  the  spot 
that  He  had  taken  away  my  sins,  even  mine,  and  had 
thus  saved  me  from  the  law  of  sin  and  death.' 

Adds  his  latest  biographer  :  '  The  scene  in  Aldersgate 
Street  marks  one  of  the  turning-points  of  human  history  ; 
for  the  mightiest  and  most  far-reaching  issues  are 
determined,  not  on  stricken  fields,  but  in  the  solitary 
places  of  the  spirit.  The  experience  at  Aldersgate 
Street  changed  the  centre  of  John  Wesley's  life  from 
himself  to  Christ,  opened  his  heart  to  the  redeeming 
and  sanctifying  influences  of  Divine  grace,  and  kindled 
within  him  an  invincible  assurance  of  the  mighty 
working  of  the  forgiving  love  of  God  in  his  heart.  .  .  . 
Sacerdotalism,  asceticism,  and  externalism  have  loosed 
their  bonds  ;  he  has  entered  into  the  glorious  liberty  of 
the  children  of  God,  and  is  a  freeman  in  Christ  Jesus. 
And,  standing  in  the  noble  succession  of  Paul,  Augustine, 
and  Luther,  he  henceforth  preached  salvation  by  faith 
with  a  passion  that  no  opposition  could  quench,  and 
with  a  divine  power  that  godlessness  and  unbelief  could 
not  withstand.'  '  From  this  time,'  says  Dr.  Rigg, 
'  Wesley  was  no  longer  a  priest ;  henceforth  his  vocation 
was,  pre-eminently,  that  of  a  j^reacher.  Though,  for 
some  time  yet,  he  retained  some  of  his  rubrical  scruples 
and  punctilios,  yet,  henceforth,  the  sacraments,  accord- 


368  JOHN  WESLEY 

ing  to  his  teaching,  were  to  be  regarded  only  as  means 
and  seals  of  grace,  and  not  at  all  as  fountains  of  super- 
natural power,  ministered  by  the  hand  of  the  priest.' 

Coming  now  to  Wesley's  preaching :  nothing  could 
be  more  interesting  and  instructive  to  us  in  this 
house  than  to  study  both  the  matter  and  the  manner 
of  that  preaching.  And  that,  because  John  Wesley 
stands  in  the  front  rank,  if  not  at  the  very  head  of  all 
preachers,  for  the  immediate  and  abiding  results  of  his 
preaching.  I  can  touch  but  shortly  here  on  that  all- 
important  subject.  But  you  will  do  well  to  give  some 
time  and  some  thought  to  that  subject  in  entering  on 
your  own  preaching  life.  To  begin  \vith,  and  strange 
as  it  may  sound  to  some,  there  was  little  or  nothing 
that  could  be  called  popular  either  in  the  matter  or  in 
the  manner  of  Wesley's  preaching.  There  was  little  or 
no  imaginative  power  in  his  preaching,  there  was  little 
or  no  dramatic  power,  there  was  little  or  no  power  of 
illustration,  there  was  next  to  nothing  of  those  wonder- 
ful pulpit  qualities  that  made  Whitefield's  contempor- 
aneous preaching  so  commanding.  The  run  of  Wesley's 
sermons,  it  may  be  said,  were  far  more  fitted,  as  one 
would  think,  for  a  congregation  of  Christian  people, 
for  their  establishment  in  the  faith,  for  their  advanced 
edification,  and  for  their  spiritual  comfort,  than  for  the 
outcast  classes  to  which  they  were  mostly  preached. 
And  how  such  preaching  took  such  a  hold  of  those 
classes  will  be  a  mystery  to  you  as  you  read  his  Journal 
and  his  sermons.  If  you  take  Wesley's  famous  sermon 
which  he  preached,  first  at  St.  Mary's,  Oxford,  before 
the  University,  and  so  often  repeated  in  very  different 
places,  and  compare  it  with  Spurgeon's  sermon  on  the 
same  text,  you  will  at  once  admit  that  the  Tabernacle 


JOHN  WESLEY  869 

sermon   has   all    the   elements   of    popular   power   that 
Wesley's    sermon    was    almost   wholly   without.     There 
is  a  surge  and  a  sweep  of  passion  in  Spurgeon  that  has 
no  parallel  in  Wesley.    There  is  a  thrill  of  pathos  in 
every  sermon  of  Spurgeon's  that  you  seldom  or  never 
meet  with  in  Wesley.    Every  preacher  has  his  own  talents. 
And  where  clear  statement  and  close  reasoning  are  the 
great    features   of  Wesley's   sermons,  an  all-compelling 
eloquence  carries  you  captive  in  Spurgeon's.    Wesley  is 
not  without  real  eloquence,  and  Spurgeon  is  not  without 
real  logic.     But  while  logic  rules  in  Wesley,  Spurgeon  is 
of  pulpit  passion  all  compact.     After  reading  both  those 
sermons  again  and  again,  I  repeat  that  Wesley's  Oxford 
sermon  is  not  to  be  compared  with  Spurgeon's   London 
sermon.    There  is  a  richness,  a  fulness,  a  fascination,  and 
a  heart-winningness  about  Spurgeon  that  Wesley,  to  my 
mind,    never    came    near.     Why,    then,    you    will    ask, 
Wesley's  unparalleled  success  ?     That,  gentlemen,  is  your 
problem,  as  young  preachers  ;    a  problem  which  you  are, 
with  all  your  might  and  before  you  are  much  older,  to  work 
out  for  yourselves.     Only,  take  this  key  and  try  the  lock 
with  it :  Not  by  might,  nor  by  power,  but  by  my  Spirit, 
saith  the  Lord.    And  this  :   Paul  may  plant  and  Apollos 
water,  but  it  is  God  who  gives  the  increase.     '  The  best 
key,'  says  Augustine,  '  is  that  which  opens  the  lock  best.' 
But  this  is  such  an  interesting  and  such  an  important 
subject  that,  before  leaving  it,  I  will  let  you  hear  some 
other  voices  than  mine  upon  Wesley's  preaching.     And 
take    first    Richard    Watson,    in    his    powerful    polemic 
against    Southey.     Having    to    touch    on    his    master's 
sermons  that  great  champion  of  Wesley's  says  :    '  There 
is  nothing  imaginative  in  their  style,  nothing  calculated 
to     move     the     passion    through    the    fancy,    nothing 
gorgeous,    nothing    mystic.      They    are    addressed     to 

2  a 


370  JOHN  WESLEY 

the  conscience,  not  to  the  imagination,  and  they  in- 
culcate spiritual  religion  only.  This  was  the  character 
of  Mr.  Wesley's  viva  voce  sermons,  and  it  is  the  character 
of  his  written  ones.'  Again,  his  latest  biographer  has 
this  candid  passage  :  '  Wesley's  published  sermons  do 
not  enhance  his  reputation,  and  they  leave  the  reader 
perplexed  as  to  the  secret  of  his  great  influence,  and  his 
unparalleled  popularity.'  And  Alexander  Knox,  an 
almost  worshipper  of  Wesley's,  has  a  passage  I  would 
not  like  you  to  miss.  '  I  spoke  just  now  of  John  Wesley 
being  often  too  familiar  :  I  believe  I  should  rather  say 
that  he  often  both  spoke  and  wrote  with  insufficient 
preparation  ;  and,  by  that  means,  fell  into  tenuity  of 
thought.  But  it  is  very  remarkable,  that,  though  he 
talked  so  much  with  low  people,  and  had  always  from 
that  class  the  great  majority  of  his  hearers,  yet  he 
never  sank  into  vulgarity,  never  deviated  from  the 
style  of  a  classical  scholar,  and  a  perfect  gentleman. 
In  this  respect,  that  is,  in  being  familiar,  yet  not  vulgar, 
I  consider  my  old  friend  as  really  one  of  the  very  first 
models  in  the  world.  Had  he  possessed  a  more  self- 
directing  mind,  and  a  sounder  judgment,  he  would  have 
been  a  paragon ;  but,  perhaps,  that  would  have  made 
him  less  fit  for  his  appropriate  destination.  I  certainly 
can  claim  no  rank  for  John  Wesley  as  a  writer,  if  he 
be  tried  by  any  accustomed  standard.  But  why  is  that 
so  ?  Merely  because  he  preferred  utility  to  every  other 
consideration  in  the  world.'  And  so  on  to  the  end  of  a 
very  remarkable  appreciation  in  the  third  volume  of 
Alexander  Knox's  works. 

Look,  now  and  henceforth,  at  John  Wesley,  like  the 
Apostle,  in  journeyings  often,  in  perils  by  his  own  country- 
men, in  perils  in  the  city,  in  perils  among  false  brethren, 
in  weariness,  in  painfulness,  in  fastings  often ;    besides 


JOHN  WESLEY  871 

those  things  that  came  upon  him  daily,  the  care  of  all 
the  societies,  if  not  of  all  the  churches.  Look  at  him  as 
he  sets  out  to  take,  if  not  yet,  '  the  whole  world  as  his 
parish,'  at  any  rate  to  take  England,  and  Ireland,  and 
Wales  and  Scotland.  Look  at  him,  as  he  mounts  his 
daily  horse,  with  his  saddle-bags  full  of  books ;  and 
look  at  him  as  he  makes  his  saddle  his  study  chair,  and 
his  horse's  shoulder  his  study  desk.  The  books  he  read 
on  horseback,  and  the  comments  and  criticisms  he 
penned  on  the  books  he  read,  all  make  his  Journal  to  be 
fascinating  reading  to  any  one  with  anything  of  a  literary 
mind.  It  would  be  to  read  the  whole  Journal  to  you 
were  I  to  attempt  to  tell  you  the  range  and  the  amount 
of  Wesley's  reading  and  writing  on  horseback.  And, 
in  like  manner,  it  is  quite  impossible  for  me  to  show  you 
how  every  day's  journey  ended,  the  hours  at  which 
the  evangelist  preached,  the  congregations  he  had  at 
all  hours  of  the  day  and  the  night,  the  immediate 
results  of  his  sermons — results  as  immediate  as  his 
own  instantaneous  conversion  at  a  quarter  to  nine  in 
Aldersgate  Street ;  and,  as  time  went  on,  his  collecting 
of  his  converts  into  Methodist-societies,  his  universally 
acknowledged  statesman-like  ability  in  his  legislation 
for  those  societies,  and  in  his  administration  of  all  their 
affairs,  doctrinal,  disciplinary,  financial,  and  all  else ; 
all  that  is  to  be  read  in  minute  detail,  and  at  great  length, 
in  his  life-long  Journal.  You  will  read  there  how  Wesley 
made  not  only  all  England  his  parish  in  these  ways, 
but  how  he  visited  Scotland  sixteen  times,  and  Ireland 
twenty-one  times,  usually  taking  Wales  on  his  way  to 
and  from  Ireland.  Wesley  had  set  out  on  his  evan- 
gelistic journeys  for  some  time  before  he  began  to  preach 
in  the  open  air.  Shreds  of  his  High  Churchism  hung 
about  Wesley,  and  hindered  his  movements  for  long. 


372  JOHN  WESLEY 

In  after  days  he  made  this  confession,  that,  at  one  time 
in  his  ministry  he  would  almost  have  seen  a  sinner  lost, 
rather  than  he  had  not  been  saved  in  a  consecrated 
church  and  at  canonical  hours.  It  was  to  Whitefield 
that  Wesley  owed  his  deliverance  from  his  pride  about 
preaching  anywhere  but  in  a  church.  On  that  subject 
Isaac  Taylor  has  this :  '  Wesley,  at  Whitefield's  in- 
vitation, and  following  the  example  he  had  set,  com- 
menced his  public  ministry  as  a  field-preacher  in  1739. 
This  was  a  course  utterly  repugnant  to  his  most  cherished 
notions  of  church  order,  as  well  as  to  every  instinct  of 
his  nature.  And,  yet,  it  was  by  field-preaching,  and 
in  no  other  possible  way,  that  England  could  be 
roused  from  its  spiritual  slumber,  or  Methodism  be 
spread  over  the  country,  and  be  rooted  where  it  spread. 
The  men  who  commenced  and  achieved  this  arduous 
service,  and  they  were  scholars  and  gentlemen,  displayed 
a  courage  far  surpassing  that  which  carries  the  soldier 
through  the  hail-storm  of  the  battle-field.  Ten  thousand 
men  might  more  easily  be  found  who  would  confront  a 
battery,  than  two  who,  with  the  sensitiveness  of  educa- 
tion about  them,  could  mount  a  table  by  the  roadside, 
give  out  a  psalm,  and  collect  a  mob.'  And  Taylor 
proceeds  :  '  As  a  field  preacher,  the  courage,  the  self- 
possession,  the  temper,  the  tact  which  John  Wesley 
displayed  place  him  in  a  very  high  position.  When 
encountering  the  ruffianism  of  mobs  and  magistrates,  he 
showed  a  firmness,  as  well  as  a  guileless  skill,  combined 
with  the  dignity  and  courtesy  of  a  gentleman.'  I  am 
sorely  tempted  to  take  time  to  tell  you  some  of  Wesley's 
experiences  and  impressions  in  his  preaching  tours  through 
Scotland.  But  it  will  be  better  to  let  you  come  on  all 
that  as  you  go  through  the  Journal  for  yourselves.  And, 
as  you  go  through  the  Scottish  pages  of  the  Journal,  I 


JOHN  WESLEY  873 

promise  you  some  right  racy  reading,  as  well  as  some 
frank  and  not  uninstructive  criticism  of  the  Scottish 
nation  and  the  Scottish  Church. 

'  His  industry  was  half  his  genius,'  says  Lord  Morley, 
writing  about  Mr.  Gladstone's  habits  of  work.  And  the 
same  thing  may  be  said  of  John  Wesley.  His  pen  was 
never  out  of  his  hand.  Had  he  never  entered  a  pulpit, 
nor  preached  an  open-air  sermon,  the  mere  bibliography 
of  his  pen  would  have  been  a  noble  record  of  a  most 
industrious  life.  Take  this,  not  from  a  Methodist 
eulogist,  but  from  such  a  detached  work  as  Chambers's 
Encydopcedia.  '  During  the  fifty  years  of  his  unparalleled 
apostolate,  John  Wesley  travelled  250,000  miles,  and 
preached  forty  thousand  sermons.  And  yet,  he  managed 
to  do  a  prodigious  amount  of  literary  work.  He  wrote 
for  his  lay  preachers  and  for  the  societies  short  grammars 
in  the  English,  French,  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew 
languages ;  a  compendium  of  logic ;  extracts  from 
Phsedrus,  Ovid,  Virgil,  Horace,  Juvenal,  Persius,  Martial 
and  Sallust ;  a  complete  English  Dictionary ;  com- 
mentaries on  the  whole  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments ; 
a  short  Roman  history ;  a  history  of  England  from  the 
earliest  times ;  a  compendium  of  Social  Philosophy  in 
five  volumes  ;  and  a  "  Christian  Library  "  consisting  of 
extracts  from  all  the  great  theological  writers  of  the 
universal  church.  In  addition  to  all  this,  he  prepared 
popular  and  cheap  editions  of  the  principal  works  of 
Bunyan,  Baxter,  Edwards,  Rutherford,  Law,  and  many 
others,  and  endless  abridged  biographies.  His  works 
were  so  popular  that,  to  use  his  own  language,  he 
"  became  rich  unawares."  He  made  not  less  than 
£30,000,  every  penny  of  which  he  distributed  in  charity 
during   his   life.'     Well   might   Dr.   Hood   Wilson   say : 


374  JOHN  WESLEY 

'  If  anything  would  shame  us  ministers  into  activity 
and  devotedness  it  should  be  the  study  of  such  a  life  as 
John  Wesley's.  At  every  point  he  puts  us  to  the  blush. 
...  It  were  well,'  continues  Dr.  Wilson,  '  that  all  our 
ministers,  and  all  our  candidates  for  the  ministry,  should 
make  a  study  of  the  life  and  the  labours  of  this  apostolic 
man.  For  one  thing,  they  would  learn  the  much-needed 
lesson  that  Wesley's  being  able  to  overtake  such  an 
amount  of  work — preaching,  travelling,  reading,  writing, 
overseeing,  dealing  with  individuals — and  all  the  time 
keeping  up  an  immense  correspondence,  his  being  able 
to  overtake  all  that  is  to  be  attributed  to  his  inflexible 
temperance,  and  to  his  unexampled  economy  of  time.' 
Go,  gentlemen,  and  husband  your  time,  and  work, 
and  pray,  and  form  habits  of  temperance  and  self- 
denial  half  like  John  Wesley ;  and,  in  your  generation, 
you  will  make  your  allotted  part  of  Scotland  a  garden 
of  the  Lord,  as  Wesley  made  so  many  parts  of  England. 
But  not  without  husbanding  your  time  and  denying 
yourself  like  Wesley.  '  No  !  '  said  a  business  man  to 
me  the  other  day  :  '  no  !  I  cannot  afford  to  sit  in  your 
Presbytery,  or  to  join  any  of  your  Committees  ;  you 
ministers  talk  so  much,  and  do  so  httle.'  Go,  gentlemen, 
and  make  that  imputation  impossible  in  your  manses, 
and  in  your  Committees,  and  in  your  Presbyteries,  so 
far  as  in  you  lies. 

The  record  of  Wesley's  conference  with  his  Methodist 
preachers  in  Aberdeen  raises  an  all-important  question, 
and  reads  us  an  all-important  lesson.  In  the  first  place, 
that  record  raises  the  not  impertinent  question  as  to 
how  Wesley  himself  would  have  held  on  in  the  same 
congregation  for  a  lifetime  without  monotony  or  weari- 
ness or  fainting.      Now,  gentlemen,  not  to  discuss  Wesley 


JOHN  WESLEY  375 

and  his  endless  faith  and  love  and  power  of  perseverance 
and  power  of  endurance,  that  is  what  you  will  have  to 
face.     That   is   to   say,   you   will   soon   be   called,    and 
ordained,  and  settled,  and  fixed,  and,  most  likely  for  all 
your   days,    in   the   same   pulpit   and   pastoral   charge. 
How,  then,  are  you  to  escape  the  dangers  of  that  mono- 
tony and  weariness   to  your  people  and  to  yourselves, 
which  Wesley  so  much  feared  for  his  preachers,  and  took 
such    pains    that    they    should    not    have    to    face  ? 
How    are    you    to    keep  your  pulpit,   and   your   class, 
and   your   prayer   meeting  fresh  and  full  of  power  to 
the  end  of  a  long  lifetime  ?     Only  in  one  way,  gentle- 
men ;    and  that  is,  by  keeping  yourselves  fresh  and  full 
of  power.     And  that  will  only  be  attained  and  preserved 
by  you  steadily  working  out  your  own  personal  salva- 
tion ;     and   that   with   new   freshness   and   new   power 
every  day  you  live.     If  you  really  know,  in  your  own 
experience,  what  you  profess  to  be  praying  and  preaching 
about ;  if  you  really  know  in  your  own  bitter  experience 
what  sin  really  is,  in  its  inwardness,  in  its  persistence, 
and   in  its  unspeakable  malignity  ;    and  if,  along  with 
that,  you  grow  in  the  knowledge  of  all  the  intellectual 
and    spiritual    mysteries     of    true    sanctification, — that 
manner  of  Hfe  will  be  so  inward  with  you,  so  deep,  so 
unsearchable,  and  so  ever  present  with  you,  that  every 
new  Sabbath  your  pulpit  will  be  more  fresh,  more  rich, 
more    pungent,   and   more   powerful    than   it   was   last 
Sabbath.     The    General    Assembly    will    not    need    to 
legislate  concerning  your  ineflficiency,  and  your  Presbytery 
will  not  be  scandahsed  by  your  being  what  Luther  calls 
an  ordained  minister  rotting  within  their  bounds.      All 
such  legislation,  and  all  such  administration,  and  all  new- 
fangled schemes  of  transfer  and  circulation  are  not  at 
all  applicable  to  such  a  ministry  as  yours  will  be.     They 


376  JOHN  WESLEY 

did  not  demand  a  change  nor  a  circulation  of  ministers  in 
Anwoth,  nor  in  Kidderminster,  nor  in  Ettrick,  nor  in 
Collace,  nor  in  St.  Peter's,  Dundee,  nor  in  Airlie,  nor  in 
Blairgowrie,  nor  in  Glenisla,  nor  in  Cray,  nor  in  Memus, 
nor  in  Kirriemuir.     And  many  of  you  will  live  to  write 
your  names  as  honourably  and  as  indelibly  upon  some  as 
yet  unfamed  spot  in  Scotland  or  elsewhere  ;   as  honour- 
ably  and   as   lastingly   as   Rutherford   has   written   his 
name  upon  Anwoth,  and  Baxter  upon  Kidderminster, 
and   Boston    upon   Ettrick,    and    Bonar   upon    Collace, 
and  M'Cheyne  upon  St.  Peter's,  and  White  upon  Airlie, 
and    Macdonald    and    Baxter    upon    Blairgowrie,    and 
Ferguson  upon  Alyth,  and  Simpson  upon  Glenisla,  and 
Robertson   upon   Cray,   and   Edgar   upon   Memus,   and 
Cormack    upon    Kirriemuir.     And,    to    come    to    John 
Wesley's  own  country  and  college.     How  did  Thomas 
Goodwin  keep  his  University  pulpit  the  freshest  in  the 
whole  of  England,  and  that  to  eighty  years  of  age,  and 
that  in  a  land  and  in  a  day  when  the  Puritan  pulpit 
made  such  unparalleled  demands  upon  its  occupants  ; 
such  demands  as  no   pulpit  had   ever  made   before  or 
has  ever  made  since  ?     This  is  not  the  whole  answer  to 
that  question  ;    but  this  lies  at  the  root  of  the  whole 
answer.     It  was  Goodwin's  practice,  he  confides  to  us, 
to  '  take  a  turn  up  and  down  his  whole  past  life '  every 
Sabbath  morning,  before  he  entered  his  pulpit.      And 
that  constant  habit  of  his,  taken  along  with  other  kindred 
habits  of  his,  combined  to  make  his  pulpit  the  foremost, 
the  freshest,  and  the  most  powerful  pulpit  in  all  England 
to  the  Puritan  statesmen  and    the  Puritan  people,  and 
that  to  his  extreme  old  age.     Gentlemen,  '  study  down  ' 
your  pulpit  subjects,  as  it  was  said  about  Paul's  best 
expositor ;    preach,  and   apply  your  preaching,  first  to 
yourselves    and    then    to   your    people,    as     Goodwin 


JOHN  WESLEY  377 

did,  and  as  the  men  I  have  so  honourably  named  did  ; 
and,  hke  them,  you  will  be  far  more  fresh,  far  more 
powerful,  far  more  commanding,  far  more  interesting 
and  far  more  fruitful  at  fourscore  than  ever  you  will  be 
before  that.  So  much  so  that  neither  you  nor  your 
people  will  ever  need,  or  will  ever  endure,  either  the 
Methodist  circulation  or  the  efficiency  legislation. 

I  shall  not  enter  into  Wesley's  much  too  many  con- 
troversial writings  further  than  to  say,  that  none  of 
them  all  distresses  me  so  much  as  that  dispute  which  he 
held  with  his  former  '  oracle,'  as  he  called  him,  William 
Law.  It  is  deplorable  to  look  back  at  it ;  that  two  of 
the  most  influential  men,  and  best  men,  of  that  whole 
century  should  have  made  themselves  such  a  spectacle 
of  acrimony  and  recrimination.  A  large  part,  if  not  the 
whole,  of  the  truth  of  that  most  unhappy  controversy 
lay  in  this,  that  Law  and  Wesley,  in  their  intellectual 
life  and  in  their  religious  experience,  as  well  as  in  the 
work  that  their  Master  had  called  them  to  do,  were 
perhaps  as  different  as  two  able  and  good  men  could 
well  be.  Wesley  was  fitted  to  be  an  awakening  preacher, 
while  Law  was  never  permitted  to  preach  at  all,  but  was 
early  set  apart  by  Divine  Providence  to  reflect,  and  to 
read,  and  to  write.  The  special  work  of  Wesley's  life  was 
to  preach  awakening  sermons,  and  that  to  the  more  ignor- 
ant and  sunken  classes  of  the  English  people.  Whereas, 
the  special  work  of  Law's  life  was  to  compel  already 
awakened  and  converted  men,  and  especially  among  the 
educated  and  intelligent  classes,  to  a  more  serious  and 
consecrated  life.  And  surely,  if  they  could  only  both  have 
seen  it,  there  was  call  enough  and  scope  enough  within  the 
lines  of  the  spiritual  life  for  two  such  signally  gifted  and 
signally  individual  men  as  Law  and  Wesley  were.     We 


378  JOHN  WESLEY 

see  now  that  William  Law  without  John  Wesley,  and 
John  Wesley  without  William  Law,  would  have  left  the 
religious  life  and  literature  of  that  century  both  weak  and 
one-sided  and  unsafe.  Could  they  both  but  have  seen 
it,  both  were  indispensable — John  Wesley  to  complete 
William  Law  and  William  Law  to  complete  John  Wesley. 

But  Wesley's  most  unfortunate  controversy  was  with 
Whitefield  and  the  other  Calvinists  of  that  day.  Taught 
as  you  have  been  within  these  walls,  you  know  what 
scriptural  and  doctrinal  Calvinism  really  is.  And  when, 
at  any  time,  you  wish  to  have  all  the  questions  connected 
with  what  is  called  '  Calvinism  '  powerfully  and  finally 
cleared  up,  you  have  at  hand  the  works  of  Dr.  William 
Cunningham,  formerly  of  this  College.  And  you  will 
find  this  whole  question  in  a  nut-shell  in  the  four  pages 
under  the  head  of  '  Calvinism '  in  Professor  Wilham 
Knight's  Recollections  of  Dr.  John  Duncan,  also  formerly 
of  this  College.  One  of  Wesley's  best  biographers  says 
of  the  Journal  that  what  had  been  originally  a  reUgious 
time-table  gradually  broadens  out  into  an  autobiography. 
So  it  does.  But  I  for  one,  if  I  may  say  so  without 
offence,  could  well  have  spared  some  of  the  breadth  of 
the  Journal  for  a  little  more  depth.  Why  is  it,  gentle- 
men, that  no  branch  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  since  the 
days  of  the  Apostles  till  now,  has  been  so  rich  in  deep. 
Scriptural,  and  spiritually  experimental  autobiographies 
as  just  the  so-called  church  of  Calvin  ?  And  why  is  it 
that  no  church  in  the  whole  of  Christendom  has  been 
so  rich  in  that  best  kind  of  all  literature  as  just  our 
own  Church  of  Scotland  ?  And  it  is  well  worthy  of 
consideration  whether  or  no  that  fact  had  anything  to 
do  with  Wesley's  want  of  success  in  Scotland.  You  will 
consider   that,    and   will   judge   for  yourselves,   as   you 


JOHN  WESLEY  379 

work  your  way  through  Wesley's  so  bitterly  anti-Calvin- 
istic  Journal.  But,  thank  God,  all  that  Methodist 
bitterness  has  now  passed  wholly  away.  For  I  read,  in 
a  great  Methodist  scholar  of  to-day  these  so  welcome 
words  :  '  The  spirit  of  Calvinism  that  lives  in  the  modern 
Reformed  Churches  we  can  greatly  admire.  The  deep 
sense  of  the  sinfulness  of  sin,  the  jorofound  apprehension 
of  grace  as  utterly  and  unutterably  undeserved,  the 
humility  and  the  reverence  that  attend  upon  these 
thoughts — all  these  are  spiritual  characteristics  for  which 
we  cannot  be  too  thankful.  There,  indeed,  lies  at  once 
the  source  and  the  strength  of  all  that  is  best  in 
Calvinism.' 

As  to  Wesley's  controversies  about  '  Perfection ' ; 
when  you  wish  to  master  that  subject,  besides  Wesley's 
sermons  read  Wesley's  once  oracle,  William  Law's 
Christian  Perfection,  and  Canon  Mozley's  criticism  of 
Wesley's  Perfection,  and  John  Owen's  sixth  and  seventh 
volumes  :  but,  above  all,  read  your  own  evil  heart. 
And,  then,  gentlemen,  when  you  are  driven  of  the  Spirit 
into  any  controversy  whatsoever,  refuse  to  enter  into  it, 
unless  He  goes  into  that  controversy  with  you.  And 
watch  for  His  discharge  to  escape  out  of  that  controversy 
as  soon  as  you  can. 

The  last  and  perhaps  the  best  lesson  that  you  will 
learn  from  John  Wesley's  Journal  is  always  and  every- 
where to  preach  your  very  best ;  to  preach  every 
Sabbath  as  if  it  were  to  be  your  last  Sabbath  ;  to  preach 
as  if  you  were  never  to  see  one  of  your  hearers  again  till 
you  see  them  standing  beside  you  before  the  Great 
White  Throne ;  to  preach  when  you  are  a  candidate 
so  as  to  forget  that  you  are  a  candidate,  and  so  as  to 
make  your  hearers  forget  that  they  are  sitting  in  judg- 
ment upon  your  preaching.     In  short,  to  preach  as  John 


380  JOHN  WESLEY 

Wesley  always  preached,  and  as  Richard  Baxter  always 
preached  ;  that  is  to  say,  as  '  a  dying  man  to  dying  men.' 

A  long  address  and  a  rich  one  could  be  given  on  the 
Hymnology  of  the  Brothers  Wesley.  But  I  must  con- 
tent myself  with  merely  naming  a  scholarly — and 
everyway  delightful — little  book  published  the  other 
day  and  entitled  The  Hymns  of  Methodism  in  Thei^ 
Literary  Relations.  It  is  a  small  book,  but  it  is  full  of 
suggestions  for  your  sermons,  and  for  your  Bible  Class 
lessons,  and  for  your  prayer  meetings. 

And,  now,  gentlemen,  I  have  done  my  best  to  point  out 
to  you  some  of  the  more  outstanding  lessons  of  John 
Wesley's  Journal.  But,  to  men  like  you,  the  whole 
Journal  is  running  over  with  lessons  ;  lessons  about  a 
true,  a  deep,  and  a  lasting  conversion  ;  lessons  about 
true  preaching,  and  the  true  motive  in  preaching  ;  lessons, 
that  I  have  not  ventured  to  touch  upon,  concerning  the 
early  laying  of  the  foundation  stone  of  an  honourable 
and  a  happy  home  ;  lessons  about  ministerial  reading 
and  writing ;  lessons  about  debating  and  disputing ; 
lessons  about  public  and  private  prayer  and  praise ; 
lessons  about  the  scrupulous  husbanding  of  every  passing 
moment  of  your  allotted  time  ;  and  lessons  as  to  how 
you  are  to  keep  both  yourselves  and  your  preaching 
fresh  and  fruitful  to  old  age.  In  a  word,  you  will  do 
well,  at  the  beginning  of  your  ministerial  life,  and, 
indeed,  all  through  it,  to  keep  John  Wesley's  Journal 
always  lying  open  beside  your  study  Bible. 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


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